Silent Hill 4: The NotSo Parody
by Saddened Soul
Summary: Henry Townsend is mysteriously trapped in his apartment. When he discovers a hole in his restroom wall, though, can Henry somehow escape and uncover the truth about Room 203? Will he even want to? Can he not fall into a relapse? A parody of SH4.
1. A Drug Induced Hallucination

_(A/N: Why am I doing this? I don't know... I suppose every SH author has to do a SH4 parody... I don't own it anyway, so don't sue, 'cause I don't own it. Konami and Team Silent does. This is also to see how people to respond to this, and whether or not I'll continue it depends on that.)  
_

**Silent Hill 4: The Not-So Parody-(A Drug-Induced Hallucination)**

_It was one year and exactly 365 days ago that Henry Townsend moved into Room 203 of North Ashfield Heights._

_Henry wasn't all that happy and he constantly found the toilet to be problematic._

_Henry had hope things would get better, but sometimes things just get suck-ier as time goes on..._

_Like, for example, three days ago, when Henry spilt coffee on his pants in front of his neighbor, Irene._

_But I'm talking about two days ago, when Henry started having this not-so-sexual-but-not-so-plain-dream that didn't end with him wetting his pants._

_And one other-not-so-sexual-but-not-so-plain-thing..._

_Henry couldn't leave Room 203._

"Oh _man_... what a dream..." Henry muttered as he sat on his bed in his clothing from yesterday and the day before. And, like yesterday and the day before, Henry had that weird dream, where he was walking in a perfectly clean apartment without toilet problems... but then the apartment got all covered in tomato sauce--it _couldn't_ have been blood, because Henry's not a violent person--and the toilet started having problems, and then words appeared on the wall reading, "Sucker!" and then he woke up.

He sighed and headed for the door, when the phone rang. "Stupid telemarketers," he said harshly before answering. "Hello?"

"Hello, sir, I'd like to speak to Henry Townshend-,"

"For the fifth time, _corncup_, this is Henry Town_send's_ residence, not 'Town_shend's_!"

"But sir-,"

"Up yours!" And with that, he slammed the phone down and walked away. But then it rang again. And he picked it up again. "What now?" he asked angrily.

"Help... me..."

"...Who the hell are you? Don't try to get my pity... 'cause... _'cause I'm doing your mom_!"

Henry then put the phone back and left the bedroom, strolling over to the kitchen area. He was humming for a minute before seeing the front door. Like yesterday and the day before, it was chained up from the inside. Henry cursed under his breath, picked up a spare shoe he left by the door, and chucked it at the chains, but it just bounced back and smacked him in the face. He yelped in surprise and landed on the carpet, but he sprang up fast.

It was just like the last two days, in fact, it was exactly the same. Those bloody chains... his loss of all electricity... it was like his whole word had gone topsy-turvy. "I swear... I didn't know you could be high for _this_ long, I mean, _damn_!" he exclaimed while turning, but suddenly something sudden happened. Writing appeared on the door in pink, with a little Chibi drawing beside it. "What the heck?" said Henry as he leaned forward to read it.

**Like... don't go out, man. You're not high, and your world hasn't gone all topsy-turvy, but it HAS gone rather upside-downy... Anyway, like, don't go outside. -- Your pal, Walter :)**

"Who... _the fudge _is Walter?" he thought aloud when he heard something fall outside the door. "Huh?" He looked out through the peephole to see Irene Galven from Room 202. She had dropped a bag of stuff and was in the process of picking it all up. 'Kind of a coincidence how she dropped her stuff in front of my room, eh?' he thought to himself.

"...I hope Frank doesn't see me with my 'questionable' bag of 'groceries'..." she said, looking around quickly while stealthily moving out of view.

"Hey, wait..." Henry murmured before looking down at a little note under the door. "She must've dropped it," he said and picked it up.

**MoM, wAkE uP... I... F33l t3h... l33t... 1337ness c0MiNg uP0n m3... liek... wk3 UP!1!11!1**

"Is she stupid or something? I'm not her mom." He threw the note into the trash and walked over to the window and bookshelf. He peered out at the citizens below until he spotted some chick standing nearby the subway entrance smoking something.

"Are those... narcotics, I see?" Henry felt the oh-too-familiar rush returning to him, but he tried to resist. "No... cannot... allow... _relapse_!" He collapsed to the floor, noticing another note wedged behind the bookshelf. "Hey, look, another memo!" Henry snatched it up and began to read...

**Through the ritual of the Unholy Sock, he created a world. This world is within, but at the same time, without our Lord's realm. Of course, if that were factual, a paradox of some sort would be created, thus causing the physical universe to collapse and implode. But that's beside the point. This world of his consists of grass, strange thingamajiggers, and more grass. A very peculiar place, and if anyone were to lose themselves in that place, well, they'd be screwed. Right up the hole. How could our Lord even allow such an abo... abo... abomi...abo...mi...na...tion, abomination, to exist? It's dreadfully important to carry lightly in that world, because... if you carry a burden too heavy... you'll be screwed. Right up the hole. Again. Brr.**

"..." Henry put the note back in its place and stood up. "Gee, was everyone high when they wrote these things?" he asked himself, actually expecting an answer. He waited a bit, but no response came. "...Fine..." And then he plopped down on the sofa and sat there. And sat there. And sat there. And sat there. And sat there. And sat there. And sat there. And sat there. And sat there. And sat there. And sat there. And sat there. And sat there. And sat there. And sat there. And sat there. And sat there. And... A loud crashing noise came from the restroom.

"What the heck?" Henry unwillingly got up and walked over to the restroom door. He opened it and cocked an eyebrow up at what he saw. A fairly large hole had appeared in the wall, and tile and dust was scattered across the floor. He carefully crossed over the stuff and squinted into the darkness, before yelling like a complete fool, "Is anybody in there?" He just stared for a second before declaring, "I need a drink."

And he got one.

Henry sat at his kitchen counter, pouring himself some more White Merlot. "This sucks," he said while taking a nice long gulp. "Bloody holes appearing in my bathroom... Damn, I'm worse than I thought." He glanced at the wine bottle. "But I guess this isn't helping either... Drowning myself in the lie that I'm high and drunk won't help a thing... but it's an excuse to tell myself I'm not going crazy!" Henry laughed and slammed the wine bottle on his head, sending himself to the floor. He continued to laugh like an imbecile until someone rang his doorbell.

"...Stupid, stupid, stupid..." Henry muttered as he got up and checked it out. It was Irene.

"Hey, Henry... I think I dropped a tampon here... but I can't find it... I need it... for the party... so... do you have it?"

"I don't have a damn tampon you bimbo! Go away and let me have my drink!" he shouted, but it didn't seem like she heard.

"Hey, Henry, are you there!"

"Go away!"

"Henry!"

"_Go away_!"

She huffed and walked away. "Thank God," thought Henry aloud as he picked up his wine glass. "...Couldn't hurt, I guess..." He went back to the hole.

"Stupid..." He drank some more of his wine. "Well, I can only get more wine from the outside world... and considering I'm stuck inside... this may be my only way out. Stupid..." He took one last guzzle before throwing his glass to the floor and climbing in.

**La...La la la! Intermission!**

**(Ding) Now continuing with your program.**

Henry groaned as he looked up from his seat on the descending escalator. He inspected his surroundings, grimacing. "Looks like... the subway..." he said mysteriously while getting up and tripping the whole way down. He cursed extensively as he stood up. "...Stupid, stupid, stupid..." Suddenly, however, a pipe fell from the dark abyss above him and snagged him in the head. "Confounded...! Wait, a pipe!"

Henry took it in his hand and swung it around. "Awesome! Now I'm like, a badass!" he exclaimed happily. Anyway, he spotted someone standing idle at the very end of the hallway before him, so he started a steady jog towards her. "Hey, person!"

The woman turned around and flashed him a seductive smile. She was hot, but getting laid was the least of Henry's concerns. "You're that junkie I saw from the window! Hey... what's that in your hand?"

She glanced down at the cigarette she was holding and coughed. "This? Oh, I was just enjoying myself a nice, little smoke..."

"_Really_?" Henry craned his head to get a better look, but she put it behind her back.

"Um, yeah..."

"Got any more of that?" inquired Henry as he tried to circle around her, but she moved away.

"...Maybe. Say, what's your name?"

"Me?" Henry pointed at himself. "My name's Henry, and you?"

"What? This is my dream and you don't know my name?"

The brunet scratched his head. "You think this is a dream? This ain't no dream, girl."

"Oh? Then what is it?"

"A drug-induced hallucination," answered Henry quickly. He noted her scantly clothing, and coughed. '_Whore_...'

She glared at him, taking another drag. "What are you saying, that I'm high?" He backed away, holding his hands up defensively.

"I'm not saying a thing... but that weed in your hand says a lot by itself."

"Err... good point," she said, and threw it away. "Anyway... this place is pretty scary, and... I can't seem to find the exit..." She went up real close to Henry and purred. "...If you help me, I'll... do an _extra special favor _for you..."

Henry grinned excitedly. "You mean like paying my rent? Or buying my chocolate milk?"

"Uh... _yeah_!" She turned away. "Anyway, my name's Cynthia... so, let's get going."

"...Whatever."

So, they walked in silence... partially. Cynthia asked Henry about his sexuality, favorite color, and the country of Canada. Henry asked her about her weed, her weed, and her fees for her weed, so it was a fair exchange. When they reached the restrooms, however, Cynthia started to gag. "Ugh... can we stop here, Henry...? I feel like I'm going to be sick..."

"Feel? You've looked it the whole way." She ignored him and shuffled into the Women's restroom. Henry sighed and plopped himself against the wall.

'Stupid whore,' he thought. 'Not my fault she's doing that shit. I'm _clean_.' He noticed the Men's restroom door open just a bit. He stared at the crack for a second, leaning back to try and get a better look. "Anyone in there?" he called, but there was no answer. Instead, a grotesque dog-looking animal covered in green sludge flew out and landed on the floor before him, a pool of crimson blood gathering around its smelly corpse.

"What the…" he muttered when two more creatures hobbled out of the restroom an up to the dead one. They sniffed at it, and then screeched horribly and began jamming their unnaturally long tongue into the body, sucking out its blood and bodily fluids. Henry figured its urine as well.

"God… you things are sick… or maybe I just drank too much earlier…" Carefully he stepped around them and crept up to the Women's door. "Hey, Cynthia, you done yet? There are these weird dog-cat things out here… and… I'm pretty scared." There wasn't an answer. Except maybe for a growl.

He glanced back and saw the two dogs done with their feast, and looking for seconds. "Oh _shit_…" Henry clawed at the door, screaming bloody murder. "Cynthia let me in, let-me-in-let-me-in-let-me-in! They're going to freakin' eat me!" The door still didn't open. Henry continued to disregard the doorknob and watched as the dogs circled him, growling and baring their fangs at him all the while. Then he remembered the steel pipe.

'Oh yeah! I can use the pipe!' He pulled the pipe out of his pants(:3) and waved it at the dogs tauntingly before flinging it down the hall. "Go fetch the pipe, doggies, go on, go get it!" The dogs yipped happily and went after the pipe and Henry used this as his chance to get into the restroom, which he did. "Cynthia, you in here? I can… I can _smell the dope_! You _must_ be in here!" He snooped around and found no dope and no Cynthia. While Henry was internally cursing his luck, he saw a giant hole in the wall. "Whoa, a _hole_! I'd best go _into it_, and then _out of it_(:3) at my room!" So he did.

**La… la-la-la… Intermission!**

**(Ding) Now continuing with your program.**

Henry woke up with the intense desire to smoke a joint, but he put it off and got out of bed. He couldn't be so easily swayed. "That damn whore," he muttered. "She goes and starts getting my itch on… doesn't she know how easy a relapse can be triggered?" He groaned and rubbed his forehead. "…Wait a minute, though, I really _am_ back in my apartment! Weird… shouldn't I be in the bathroom…? Or maybe… I really was in her dream… No, that's just _stupid_. Why the hell could even think of something like that?"

He went to the living room and saw something odd; the drawer resting against the wall was upturned. "Who the hell messed with my drawer? Was it you, Francisco?" Forgetting who Francisco was for the moment, Henry walked over to the piece of furniture to adjust it, but while he was moving it he discovered something behind it. A giant rift in the wall. And there was a small peephole in the center of it. "Someone got pretty crazy with their spoon…" he said to himself while hunkering down to examine the hole and the short message that was carved into the wall beside it.

**Blast! This damned plastic spork is useless! I spent hours trying to carve through the wall to escape—and in the vain attempt to end up in Irene's bedroom(What can I say, I like younger women)—but it was just too thick. That stupid freak Walter had to make the walls thick too, the bastard. I'll make him pay, you can be sure of that. Hell, I don't even know why I'm carving this into the wall anyway, but I like to think that I'm spiting him. It's a shame I couldn't alert Irene though; she's in just as much danger as I am.**

'Again with that Walter guy,' Henry thought when he saw a handgun sticking out of the drawer. He frowned at it and then the phone began to ring. Groaning, he went and answered it.

"You damn telemarketers, how many times do I have to tell you-,"

"Henry, it's me Cynthia, _where are you_?"

"_Where am I_? Tch. Where the hell were _you_, biotch? And what's your problem, anyway, taunting me with that dope in the bathroom?"

"Dope in the bathroom? Henry, I wasn't doing any dope in the bathroom."

"_Don't tell me lies_!" Henry screamed into the phone, and Cynthia sighed.

"Whatever, just get your ass back over here. There's some weird shit going down."

"Tell me something I _don't_ know." He pulled away from the receiver but then leaned back in. "Biotch." And then he put it down. "I should go get that gun; who knows if those dogs will want the real thing next time…" So, he acquired the handgun and then crawled back through the hole.

**La…la la la! Intermission.**

**(Ding) Now continuing with your program.**

The second Henry climbed out of the hole in the Women's restroom he saw a giant dummy of Cynthia hanging off of the stall closest to him. Around its neck was a coin. "Hey, I can use that for the turnstiles!" Henry took it, stuffed it in his pants, and then walked out and into the turnstile area.

"Great, this will only work for the Lynch Street Line… Wait a minute, _lynch_? Are we hanging people here?" As Henry was pondering this another dog crept up behind him and sank its teeth into his ankle. Henry cried out and kicked it away with his other foot. "You son of a…!" Henry shot it a couple of times and the dog fell on its side, wounded. As it was writhing on the floor in agony Henry approached it and stuck his tongue out at it.

"How do you like that, huh, HUH? You're not getting this shit today," he said while gesturing at his crotch. "Oh yeah, vote for Pedro… _bitoch_!" he said before stomping on the dog's groin as hard as he could. The dog died instantly, and when Henry lifted his foot he saw a mess of green slime covering the bottom of his shoe. "Euch, _gross_!" he exclaimed. He wiped it off as best he could with his sleeve and then proceeded through the turnstiles and down the stairs toward the subway platform below.

When he got there, he saw Cynthia sitting on a bench and smoking a cigarette. Her legs and arms were crossed, and when she dragged she blew the smoke in Henry's direction as he came towards her. "Where'd you get that?" he demanded. "Give me some."

"Sorry, I only found enough for me," she said slyly. "Besides, you left me here, so now you'll pay the price."

"Whatever." Henry sat beside her and snorted. "What are you doing?"

"Watching that ghost thing trying to get out of the subway car." Henry squinted and saw a white corpse wearing a beanie and casual clothing floating against the door of the car. It was reaching for them, but the door blocked it.

"Wow, what a dumbass," Henry commented, and Cynthia nodded.

"I know. Hey, let's get out of here."

"Whatever." They stood up and tried the door to the next platform, but it was locked from the other side. Henry sighed exasperatedly and looked around for an alternate route out of the subway. "It seems like we'll have to go through the subway cars to get to the other side," he told her.

"But that ghost is in there!" she protested. "It'll get us!"

"Don't be stupid, Cynthia," he said. "It wants your weed, obviously. If you give it to _me_"—he motioned at himself—"it'll leave you alone." He flashed her a grin, and she exhaled more smoke in his face.

"Better luck next time, bud." She entered the nearest subway car and Henry flicked her off before following her. Inside, the car was a mess. Newspapers and debris were scattered everywhere, and the car was damaged extensively. They stepped around the flotsam and went through the door into the next car, and continued this for awhile; the subway cars were all linked in some type of hellish labyrinth.

Soon they came upon another ghost-like-being wearing a black dress, and it was busy trying to open up this weird-looking, colorful box. Its hand was seemingly stuck in the opening of the box. "How stupid are these things?" Henry asked her as he walked over to it and flipped a switch protruding from the side of the box. It opened instantly, and the ghost's hand was freed.

"Damn it, Henry!" Cynthia said while slapping her forehead with her palm.

"What?" Henry inquired stupidly, and then he snatched up the coin that was in the box. "Wow, look at this coin. It's covered in some brown stuff." The ghost hissed and tackled him to the floor, trying to bite into his jaw. "Cynthia, get this thing off me!"

"Why should I?" she said while dragging. "It's not my fault you're so stupid."

"You whore!" Henry shouted as he pushed the zombie off and bolted into the next car, shutting the door behind him. He turned back and watched the shocked Cynthia with sick glee as the ghost came upon her. "How do you like _that_, biotch?" Henry taunted from behind the door. "How are you going to get out of this one, huh? You need my help, don't you, _don't you_? How about you give me your weed and I'll consider saving you!"

Cynthia gave him the finger and then kicked the ghost in the groin, and surprisingly it went down. Henry's brow went up at this—the ghost was seemingly a female—and then Cynthia broke the door down with another kick, and Henry jumped back. "You jerk," she said. "I could've died."

"Hey, how about you show some more gratitude," Henry responded. "I got bit in the ankle coming back for you, so I deserve something, you know? Like your weed."

"I don't think so."

"Why does looking at you—hell, even _hearing_ you—have to piss me off so much?" Henry asked.

Cynthia flicked him off again and went on her way out of the subway car maze. Henry did the same to her while her back was to him and then examined the coin he found in the box. He shrugged and put it in his pants; he figured it might come in handy later.

Cynthia was waiting for him outside on the next platform, and they started for the nearest door when a dog ran out from around the corner and came at them. "Hey, look who's back," Henry said as Cynthia took this opportunity to slip through the door. "I killed your mate, _you sick freak_, and you're _next_!" He unloaded four rounds on it as it ran towards him, popping one into each of its legs with supreme accuracy. "Ha, I'm such a badass!" Henry exclaimed while kissing the barrel of the gun and walking over to the creature. "Maybe this'll teach you." He prepared to stomp on its genitals as he had done with the other, but a pack of four more dogs appeared and ran for him. Henry's eyes widened in surprise and he darted through the door, leaving the newcomers to feast on their fallen comrade instead of him.

"That was a close one," Henry muttered as he inspected the small room he was in now. There was hole in the wall like in the Women's restroom, and a red light in the ceiling's corner cast a horrid glow over its surroundings. Cynthia was nowhere to be found.

"That stupid wench just keeps on going wherever she wants," Henry complained to no one in particular. "She better not have gone through the hole… Oh man, but what if she did?" Henry sighed in silent fury and climbed into it.

**La… la-la-la… Intermission.**

**(Ding) Now continuing with your program.**

"Cynthia, are you here?" Henry called as he woke up in his bed again. She wasn't in his bedroom at least, and he thanked whatever gods there were for that. He crossed over to his living room and didn't see her, and he checked the laundry room for good measure. He saw the hole and a thought crossed his mind. 'Wait a minute, if I look through there I can look into Irene's bedroom… Sweet!' He crouched down and peeked into the peephole, and he saw Irene sitting on the bed, a broom in her hand and a duster in the other.

"What was I going to do with these again?" she asked herself dumbly.

"Something kinky, I hope," Henry mumbled under his breath, but Irene seemed to hear it.

"Huh?"

Henry immediately stood and zipped away to the door. The radio turned on by itself as he did so. "Are you worried about impressing your friends at parties?" questioned the voice. "If so, worry no longer! Show them who's the top dog with our new-," The radio shifted back to the white noise it emitted most of the time, and Henry shut if off.

"Damn radio. You turn on at the worst possible moments." Henry turned away and saw a red sheet of paper stuck under the crack of his front door, and he picked it up. "What the hell is this?" He started to read it…

…**I'll be honest with you, I can take the chains off. There's a set of these massive pliers in the laundry room, but I decided it would take the fun out of it all so I'm not going to bother. Really, this has to be a practical joke, anyway.**

**I think it may have something to do with what I've been investigating, though. You see, there was this crazy crackpot named Walter something-or-another, and he just started killing random people out-of-the-blue. His roommate in college said he was probably too stoned to realize what he was doing, and he also told me the guy was constantly on a fix.**

**What he was smoking is beyond me, but he killed ten people in the span of ten days. I know what you're probably thinking, "A kill-a-day keeps the cops-a-away," but that doesn't make any sense. You know what I mean.**

**The guy even wrote his name on his victims with a purple gel pen. The first ten victims were marked with a number too, for example, the first was "121", and that's stupid but he wrote that. 121? WTF, dude.**

**I've written enough for today, though. I'm going to go visit the guy's grave, since he supposedly killed himself with a spoon. I know, go figure. Anyway, the only way to get out is to climb out the window, so I should go deal with that. TTFN.—Joe S.**

"Pliers?" Henry left the memo on the coffee table and went to check. He scoured the entire room, yet found no pliers. However, his laundry was done, so Henry took care of that and then decided to go back through the hole and take care of his business with Cynthia.

**La… la la la! Intermission.**

**(Ding) Now continuing with your program.**

Once back at the subway Henry descended the ladder that was situated at the back of the room. He touched down on a wooden walkway of sorts, and below that the floor had degenerated into red, pulsing flesh. Henry bent down to poke it quickly. "It's all slick…" he mused as the two ghosts from before crawled out of the wall and into the corridor. Henry faced them. "Hey, how you guys doing?" The ghosts floated toward him with their arms outstretched and gnawing at the air.

"Hey, I don't have your weed," Henry said, tensing. But then he recalled how Cynthia had blown the stuff in his face that couple of times, and he shook his head. 'That stupid woman! She'll pay!' Henry smirked at the ghosts and laughed. "So sorry, guys, but I can't stay for a chat!" He ran past them and then down a set of steps to another door. Stealing a glance at the ghosts as they chased him he opened the door and found himself on another platform. The whole place was covered in rust and blood—Henry would continue to believe it was ketchup—like in his dream. He ran down the platform, mindful of the ghosts and their gravity-defiant ways. He passed by a vending machine and took the box of handgun ammunition that lay on it. He saw a subway car on the tracks to his right, and just as he was about to go and explore it an intercom sounded from above him.

"Testing, testing one, two, three… Okay, Henry, you there?"

"Cynthia, you damned bimbo!" Henry shouted to the ceiling, but she of course couldn't hear him.

"Henry, I found the exit, so if you want the weed come to the turnstile. You should hurry, too. This creepy guy's been following me and I think he wants it, but I won't give it to him… Hey, there he is! What are you doing here? Wait—Get that sock away from me! Hen-," Her voice faded into static, and Henry sighed.

"That girl can't stay out of trouble, can she?" He shook his head tiredly and saw a pair of escalators nearby. 'I can use those to get to the turnstiles,' he thought. From the subway car several dogs bounded towards him, and the ghosts were catching up. "_Wonderful_!" Henry exclaimed sarcastically before running like hell to the escalators. When he landed on them he turned back and mocked the things by sticking his tongue out at them. "Couldn't catch me, could you? Ha, you can't catch a badass! I'm still clean! You can't tempt me! I'll-," An arm lashed out at him and knocked him down the steps. His head was as sore as a mongoose, and he saw a human torso extending out of the fleshy walls, flailing their arms wildly. Henry gritted his teeth and loaded his pistol.

He unloaded several rounds into the monster, and when it was subdued it sank back into the wall, dead. Henry made a nasty hand gesture at the space and ran up the escalator, narrowly avoiding more of the creatures as they popped out at him. The escalator went up for who-knows-how-long, and when Henry was busy popping a bullet into a Wall Man's head the ride stopped and he tripped over into the room.

"Finally!" he said, and ignored the beanie ghost as it struggled out of the wall. Henry skipped up the stairs and out onto the other side of the King Street Line turnstiles. Littering the floor were various items, such as some lipstick and some cash, which Henry picked up without any thought. He didn't bother to think what may have happened as he turned to the door and found a plaque on it. The metal was colored mauve and some stuff was scribbled on it. In its center was a title, reading: **TEMPTER**

"Tempter?" Henry shrugged and stuffed the placard into his pants before opening the door and blinking at what was inside. "Ketchup" was everywhere, and in middle of the mess of papers and other things on the floor was Cynthia. Deep stab wounds were all over her body, and she glanced at Henry out of the corner of her eye with extreme hatred.

"What… _the hell_ did you do this time?" Henry asked her while kneeling down next to her. "Anyway, I came, so where's my weed?"

"_Here's your damn weed_," she spat, and with the last of her strength dropped the cigarette in her mouth and swallowed with the greatest look of triumph on her face. Henry's brow furrowed with anger and he clamped his hands around her throat and shook her violently.

"_You stupid fool_!" he yelled. "_Look what you've done_! _I won't be able to have it now_!"

"That was the _point_," she replied tersely through the fit of coughing brought on by Henry's strangling of her. He let her head fall and stood up. "This was a pretty crappy dream…" she mumbled, and Henry gaped.

"You still think this is a dream? Cynthia, _you're dying_!" He stared at her for a moment. "…But there's till time! Sit up, I'm going to get that weed out of you yet!"

She laughed and then fell silent, her body stilling. Henry glared at her corpse. As he eyed her he noticed something written on the top of her left breast. He squinted a it and made it out: **1621**. "What the hell does that mean? Eh, while I'm still here I might as well look for some more alcohol…" He exited the office and heard someone cursing below him. He descended the steps and spotted a man in a long, navy coat and khakis messing around with a vending machine. His long blond hair was tousled and disarrayed.

"Need some help?" Henry asked politely as the stranger turned to him. Covering his left hand was a sock with two black beads sewed into it as eyes. The man giggled.

"Oh yeah, Mr. Sock wants a soda, but I don't have any money, so I was trying to break it open."

"I have something right here," Henry told him, removing the coin from his pants. He inserted it and a can of cola swooped downward into the receiving tray. Something else came with it, and Henry took it and saw that it was a key. The tag attached to it said: **Murder Scene Key lol**

"Whatever." As he put in his pocket the man poured the soda over the sock.

"Do you like that, Mr. Sock? Is it good enough?" The man raised his hand closer to his head and he said, in a menacing tone, "Why _yes_, it was…"

"Why do you talk to yourself?" Henry inquired.

"I'm not talking to myself. I'm talking to Mr. Sock."

Henry shrugged. "Whatever. I'll see you around." He turned to leave through the hole, but the man hailed him.

"Thanks."

"…What? Oh, yeah, well, you're welcome." Henry left into the hole, and the man peered at the spot quizzically.

**La… la. Intermission.**

**(Ding) Now continuing with your program.**

Henry tumbled out of bed and heard sirens from outside. He ventured over to the window and witnessed an ambulance by the subway entrance. '…Is it Cynthia?' he wondered while leaving the room. The radio was on.

"Hey, dude, she has some funky numbers on her boob."

"Yeah, I saw them. Reminds me of that guy, Walter… something, a few years back. He would write numbers on his victims too."

"You think this is a copycat?"

"Maybe. There was one before, too, but we smoked his ass down by the tavern. I guess someone else took a liking to Mr. Walter's work, eh…?"

The radio went off, and Henry yawned. "Oh man, I need a nap… That whole thing was pointless; I didn't get any booze _or_ dope out of it." He was about to lay down on the sofa when another crash came from the restroom. Groaning with annoyance Henry went to check. The hole had gotten larger, and rounder.

"...I don't think I'm still high… Well, might as well check it out," he said, and then reluctantly crawled into it…

**To be continued…**

**  
**


	2. The Farming of Narcotics

**Silent Hill 4: The Not-So Parody-(The Farming of Narcotics)**

When Henry managed to find his way out of the tunnel that the hole led in to, he fell out of the sky and landed quite hard on his back in a patch of dead grass. Pain coursed through his body like fire, and he slowly stood up, aching all over. "I'm falling out of the sky now," he muttered. "How far will I go for some alcohol? I mean, shit…" He rubbed the lower part of his back and looked about himself. He was in a clearing of some sort, but most of the grass around him was brown and lifeless and the flowers were withered. He snorted and passed through some trees and brush, pushing back the foliage with his hands as he went. He ended up on a dirt path, with only a solitary lamp post as a source of light.

"First a subway, and now a forest… This is getting ridiculous." He unhooked the lamp from its station and held it before him. Overhead the moon was a thin sliver in the black sky, and hardly any stars were out. He grimaced and went down the path and through a gate, and before him was a giant steel wall, and from that sign that hung down from it Henry found that it was an industrial compound. "More of their damn pollution, I swear! It's killing all the weed!" He lowered the lantern and proceeded into the compound.

The steady hum of machinery greeted him, and behind the metal fences all around him there were oil cans and other strange things. Henry disregarded them and walked down the steel walkway to the next gate. He got the box of ammunition resting on the barrel nearby and suddenly he was assaulted by a hive of moth-like creatures. "What the hell?" Henry said as they swarmed around his head. He batted them away with the lantern and then squashed the damned things. "Stupid flies… stupid…" Henry kicked their corpses away and traveled deeper into the compound. He entered a large area and went down a catwalk. Along the way more moths attacked him, but he finished them with minimal effort.

"Wow, these things aren't even a challenge…" he said when the beanie ghost from the subway gnawed its way through the metal fence and hovered down to face him. "You? Again? Give it up, I don't have any weed!"

"…Yes you do," the ghost responded, startling Henry. It pointed at him. "It's in the back of your pants."

"No shit?" Henry looked back at his jeans and saw that a cigarette _was_ sticking out from the back of his pants. "You've got to be kidding me," Henry said, shocked. "Cynthia must have put it there when I wasn't looking…" He plucked it up and stared at it. It called out to him.

_Smoke me, Henry_, it said. _Smoke me and everything will be all right. All your problems will be solved. Just like in college_.

'You made things worse, you damn Cancer stick.' He threw it to the beanie ghost. "Here you go, I don't want it!" And as the ghost reached for it longingly Henry left the compound as fast as he possibly could.

He found himself back on the path, and out of the mist that filled the forest he saw some more dogs advance towards him. One of them was pink rather than green, and one of the green ones, Henry was sure, had been dry-humping it. "Hey, you dogs getting it on over there or what?" They growled in response and lunged at him. Henry strafed to the side and produced his handgun. He popped some bullets into the dogs and killed one of them, but the pink over came at him again. "You don't know when to give up, huh?" Henry demanded as he slammed the lantern into it, shattering the glass and putting it on fire. The dog whined and Henry laughed at it before getting the hell out of there.

"I lost my lantern, but that's okay…" he told himself. As he shut the gate behind him he turned to the front and saw a lime-green car—with the engine still running—parked near a tall tree. Henry approached it and saw the license plate, which read: **1337 JSPR**

'He gets an eight-digit number?' Henry thought. 'The biotch.' He found the driver's door opened and circled around the vehicle to it. Inside he saw a notepad resting on the seat, and he took it up.

**I finally returned to Silent Hill, after all this time! It's been nearly ten years since I was last here, with Sein and Bobby. They were killed here, so it was creepy, and I saw the guy that did it. He was so stoned; the smoke was puffing out of his ears! He offered me some, but I don't smoke. And then that retarded nosy guy came and asked me about the plantation. I don't know anything, I swear. But I got here and that's all that matters!—Jasper Gein**

"What a dumb name… and plantation? My itch…" Henry dropped the notepad but stopped and looked the car over. "Wait a second… this guy must be a lame-ass." He got into the driver's seat and drove into the tree that was next to it repeatedly, damaging the car extensively. Snickering, Henry got out and saw some lights beyond the next gate. He went through the gate and saw numerous candles lit and set on wooden stands. An enormous boulder was nearby, and sitting beside it on a stump was a lanky man with faded jeans, a tight, green shirt, red sneakers, and a small Mohawk. Henry took him as the owner of the car.

"Hey, _Jasper_," he called. The man turned his head towards him and Henry walked over to him. "I knew it was you. You looked like the type of dumb-ass that would write that pointless stuff back there in your car."

"Y-You mean my, my notepad?"

"You stutter, too? Yeah, your notepad. Anyway, I'm Henry. Do you have any idea where we are?"

Jasper nodded fervently. "Yeah, we're… we're in the, the f-f-forest n-near Silent Hill… I c-c-came to see the, uh, or-orphanage… but it's supposedly, a, a plantation… They used the c-c-c-children as w-w-workers… to farm the stuff…"

"A plantation? Of what? Was it weed?" Henry leaned in closer to him. "Tell me. I have to know, man. I _need_ that _weed_."

Jasper frowned. "Well, actually, yeah… it w-w-was w-weed…"

"_I knew it_!" Henry did a little dance of joy. "Imagine it, all that weed… for _myself_! No ghosts or whores to steal it away!" He made for the gate but Jasper grabbed his arm.

"T-They s-stopped farming the, the weed a f-f-few years ago. The only… w-weed left is in the b-b-building, and I want to, to get in there too."

"For what? The weed's mine."

"I don't w-w-want your weed… come on, I'll s-s-s-show y-you." Jasper led Henry down the path again and towards a metallic wall that impeded their progress. There was a set of double-doors in the wall, and a giant sign was beside it: **WELCOME TO THE SILENT HILL SMILEY-ORPHANAGE-THAT-HELPS-MOLD-CHILDREN-ALL-OVER-THE-WORLD!**

Henry squinted at it. "That doesn't make any sense. Children from all over the world come here?" Jasper shrugged and pulled the doors open. He went through and Henry followed him into another massive area. A great, two-story building took up quite a bit of the space, and the whole place was fenced up. Toys and other things dotted the ground and, crude drawings were on the fencing. "The weed's in there?" he asked while pointing at the building.

Jasper nodded.

"Is it locked or something?"

He nodded again.

"Do you have the key?"

He shook his head.

"Damn it!" Henry kicked at the grass and sent some blades flying into the air. Jasper rubbed his throat.

"I have… s-s-something that might, might help you, though… The n-n-n-nosy g-guy gave it to m-m-me… but I won't g-g-give it t-to you for free."

"Huh?" Henry faced him and grabbed his shirt collar fiercely and jerked him forward. "What the hell do you want, then? Didn't you understand me earlier? _I need the bloody weed_!" He let Jasper go and the guy backed away in fright.

He dusted himself off quickly and cleared his throat. "I've been r-r-really th-th-thirsty… and I w-w-want something c-c-chocolate… Oh, _so thirsty_… C-Chocolate… T-_Thirsty_…"

"Okay, okay, I get you. You're starting the scare the hell out of me. So, if I get you something chocolate to drink you'll give me this thing?" Jasper nodded and Henry noticed another hole in the fencing. He headed for it. "I'll check if I have anything at my apartment. I'll be back soon."

He entered the hole and Jasper wandered off.

**Woo… Intermission.**

**(Ding) Now continuing with your program.**

When Henry got back someone was ringing his doorbell without stopping. He tugged at his hair and went to the peephole to see who was being such a nuisance today. And he knew who it was. "Damn it, Irene!" he muttered angrily as she stuck her face all the way up in front of the hole.

"Hey, Henry…" she said stupidly in her bimbo-like fashion. "Are you in there? Where are you…? Where's my tampon…? Do you have it…?"

"Do I have to go out there and slap you or something? I don't have your damn tampon, you bimbo!" He saw a man walk into view behind her, and he nudged in beside Irene for a look. "What the hell do _you_ want?" Henry questioned, but of course they couldn't hear him and thus could not respond.

The man stroked his brightly-colored, dazzling tie. "What are you doing out here, Irene?"

"Huh…? Oh, I'm just looking for Henry. He hasn't come out in awhile… What are you doing around here, Richie?"

"It's Richard, damn it!" he corrected, and then turned back to the door. "And I'm not doing anything! I was just enjoying a stroll through this crappy apartment."

"…Okay."

"Anyway, what's this guy like? I've seen him around sometimes. Looks like a stoner to me."

"You're gay," Henry insulted from his place behind the peephole.

"Oh, I've seen him around too. He calls me a bimbo and it turns me on. He's really hot."

"…Right, well, I should go call the super."

"That's a great idea. Henry won't come out on his own."

Henry watched them leave the vicinity and he moved away from the door. '…Weird.' He remembered why he was there in the first place and checked the refrigerator. A bottle of chocolate milk was the only thing left in the fridge, and he took it out and shook it. "This seems like it would work. Well, whatever, the weed is waiting for me!" Henry went back to the hole.

**WOO… Intermission.**

**(Ding) Now continuing with your program.**

When Henry returned he saw that Jasper was nowhere to be found. The guy had vanished. Henry cursed under his breath and moved around and about the building. With no traces of where he went, he chose a gate at random and passed through it. He trekked through the forest and killed some more dogs when they ran out at him. Soon enough he found the entrance to a cemetery. He went inside, where he found a familiar face.

The man from the subway with the sock was balancing himself on a coffin that had been dug up out of the ground. A little boy was sitting next to it, watching him with wide eyes. "Another round, sock man, another round!" The man laughed and flipped around to walk the rim of the coffin again. Henry snorted.

"You two haven't seen a stuttering guy with a Mohawk wearing red sneakers around here, have you? I have to talk to him immediately." The man shook his head, and so did the boy.

"Sorry, man, haven't seen any type of guy like that around. Have you, little Wally?"

"No. I just got here, big Walter."

"Wait, both of your names is Walter?" Henry asked. He tapped his chin curiously. "Why does that name sound vaguely familiar to me…? I don't know… but if you guys see that dude tell me, okay?"

Henry turned to leave when Jasper ran into the cemetery from out of the trees and rammed Walter to the ground. He vaulted over the coffin and laughed maniacally when he saw the boy. "It's you!" he cried. "The third Revelation! I've been waiting for this day forever! Something's going to happen! Something BIG is going to happen! Something is going to happen, damn it! IT'S GOING TO HAPPEN RIGHT NOW!" He farted, and Henry shaded his face in embarrassment. "BUT I DIDN'T MEAN THAT! THAT WAS ONLY THE BEGINNING! SOMETHING ELSE IS GOING TO HAPPEN! _IT'S GOING TO HAPPEN_!"

The kid—little "Wally"—sped off into the forest, and Jasper chased after him. "Get back here, Jasper!" Henry yelled as he went after them.

Walter watched them go and then he whispered to Mr. Sock, "They're very strange." And Mr. Sock replied, "Yes, quite strange _indeed_…"

Meanwhile, Jasper forced Wally all the way to the orphanage site, but when Henry arrived there the boy was gone and Jasper was idling by the entrance to the building. "Jasper, you freak," Henry said as he walked up onto the front porch of the building. "I brought you some chocolate milk, so where's this thing that'll help me open this place up?" He handed Jasper the bottle and he took it greedily.

"Oh yes… _chocolate milk_… this is exactly what I wanted!" He twisted the cap off and began to guzzle the milk. Henry gave him a minute before rolling his eyes and tearing the bottle from his grip.

"Alright, that's enough for now. Give me what I need and you'll get some more." Jasper nodded quickly while wiping away the brown liquid from his chin and lips. He dug around in his pants and brought out a rusted spade, which he threw to the floor in front of him. Henry picked it up and stared at it perplexedly. "A spade? What in the crap am I supposed to do with this?"

"I d-d-don't know," Jasper replied as he stole the milk away. "G-G-Go and f-find some way to open the d-d-door, p-please."

"I'll do it when you bother to," Henry responded curtly, and he looked at the spade more closely. A short message was inscribed in it.

**dig under the tree of the HAND and the FOOT will follow after**

"…I don't get it."

"I s-s-saw a weird, h-hand-sh-shaped root d-d-d-down that way…" Jasper pointed towards one of the two gates Henry had yet to explore and then licked his lips hungrily for every last bit of the milk. Henry shivered as he began to moan and drink the last of the bottle.

"I'll go check it out then. You can just go and do nothing like you have the whole time you've been here." Henry went off and Jasper shuddered with delight as he emptied the bottle. 'What a freak,' the brunet man thought as he left the orphanage site and continued on down the path. It had pretty much dissolved into mud, and it took Henry some effort to trudge to the opposite gate. He went through that and saw a strange tree that was covered in odd, red ribbons. Underneath it was a root that resembled an open hand, and Henry knelt down before it. "This must be it!" He reaffirmed his grasp on the spade and started to dig.

A good few minutes passed by, and the spade clicked against a solid surface under the dirt. He threw the spade to the side and clawed through the dirt, his tongue out and his eyes gleaming. "My weed, I shall have you soon enough!" He uncovered a small chest and pulled it out. He flipped the lid over, but the only thing inside was a key which was in a similar condition to that of the spade. Henry sighed. "…I guess I got a little ahead of myself. Anyway, this should be the key to the orphanage, and therefore it is the key to the _weed_!" Henry scrambled to his feet and ran back in the direction he had come, but rather than end up in the previous area, he passed right by the ribbon tree. "What the hell? I was just here…" He repeated this several times, each time ending up back at the tree. "What is this shit?" he demanded. "_I just want some weed_!"

He raised the key to the light and saw that it was well had a message inscribed in it.

**you have to put this away and then take it back or else youll be stuck in a cycle of DEATH… lol**

"Screw you," Henry said, and he looked around for a hole. There wasn't one in the immediate area, so he went towards the back. He saw a hole in a giant wall—he noted the well close by, too—and then stepped into the hole.

**Woo… Intermission.**

**(Ding) Now continuing your program.**

This time Henry tumbled out of bed when he woke up, and he cursed heatedly. He got to his feet and glanced at the key in his palm. He shrugged and walked to the living room, where he turned to the chest against the wall. "This should work for now." He opened it—he cringed at the squeaking made by its hinges—and dropped the key inside. Then, on a mere whim, he decided to check on Irene.

'She has to be doing _something_ kinky. I mean, she seems like the type…' He peered into the hole and there was Irene, _not_ doing something kinky. She was talking to someone on the phone, giggling like the airhead she was.

"Oh-my-gosh, I _know_! There's something weird going on around here too. I want to get _out_…! Huh? A date? Well, there's this hot introvert"—Henry found it surprising she knew what this word meant—"living next door, but I think he's going through like, a super depression or something. He hasn't come out of his room, and he kept one of my tampons… What's he doing with it? I don't know. Wait, I'll ask…"

Irene set the phone down and crawled over to the hole in the wall. Henry cocked an eyebrow up as she peered at him through it. "Henry, are you there…? My friend wants to know what you're doing with the tampon…"

"Uh…" Henry glanced around and edged closer. "You can see me, Irene?"

"Of course, I can, silly," she said, and giggled. "Why are you peeping on me, anyway, you naughty, naughty, boy? If you wanted some all you had to do was come over and ask…"

"No, no, Irene, I have something very important to tell you."

"What…? Does it involve you not coming out? Why _aren't_ you coming out, anyway…?"

"No, it has nothing to do with that. I need _alcohol_, and _fast_. You need to find a way to get me a drink. I can't do it from in here. I'm trapped."

"But, Henry, I can't stuff a wine bottle down this hole, it's too _tiny_…"

"That's your problem. Look… just do it… I have some business to take care of. Just find a way to get me the alcohol, okay? If you do... I'll give you your tampon back."

"_Really_? Cool, I'll go find some and when I pick up my costume in a little bit."

"Costume?"

"Yep! You'll be the first one to see me with it on, Henry! It's for the party tonight!" she replied proudly.

"Alright, that's nice, just get the alcohol." Henry scooted away and got up, and then he went back to the hole.

**WOO… Intermission.**

**(Ding) Now continuing with your program.**

Henry returned to the orphanage site and saw Jasper cuddling the empty chocolate milk bottle on the steps. He shook his head and went back through the hole there.

**Woo… Intermission.**

**(Ding) Now continuing with your program.**

Henry got the key and went back to the hole.

**WOO…Intermission.**

**(Ding) Now continuing with your program.**

"Jasper, get off your ass; the moment of truth is here." Henry was standing over him, dangling the key in the other guy's face. Jasper stood up and gaped. Henry nodded and slid the key into the keyhole(:3). "My weed awaits…!" he exclaimed victoriously while swinging the door open. He looked inside with disbelief. The whole place was empty, aside from some overturned tables and chairs. He and Jasper walked inside and the brunet ground his teeth. "Where is it, you said the weed was in here!"

From the small stairway the beanie ghost floated down to the foyer, a few bags of grass in its arms. Henry saw him and gasped. "_You_! Let go of my weed! _Give it to me_!" The beanie ghost cackled and then phased through the wall with the weed in its possession. "No, it's not fair!" Henry screamed. "I fought for it, damn it! _I fought for it_!" He slumped to the floor near the window. Jasper ambled around the room and Henry slowly crawled for the stairway. "He might not have taken it all… I have to hope…" But it was a false hope, for the locks for all the doors were broken and he could not open any of them.

"This is all your fault, Jasper!" Henry shouted as he stomped down the stairs and rounded the corner of the wall. "If you had bothered to help we could've gotten here before he did! _Damn it_! The weed was in my grasp, just like before! _Why must I be impeded by incompetents_?" As Henry was fuming he saw a scrap of paper on the floor near a derelict altar that had fallen over. "Another damn memo…"

**The Second Sign, and God said:**

"**Take thy Sock and bless it with the blood of thee ten virgins,**

**Secede thy life for thy Sock and surrender thy mortality,**

**For thy Sock shall open up thee way to Paradise."**

"…That made no sense," Henry said, and he ripped the scrap up. "Useless." He turned to the only door left unexplored and saw smoke streaming out from the cracks. On the door was a lime-colored plaque. "Hey, this is like the other one," Henry said as he removed it from the door. This one's depiction was much too messy to make out—like the one before—and Henry read the title: **PROCRASTINATOR**

"Whatever." Henry put the plaque in his pants and reached for the doorknob. He heard a series of painful screams from inside and his brow went up. "Jasper, what the hell are you doing in there, you freak?" He entered the room.

The first thing he saw was Jasper aflame; he was shaking violently as the fire consumed him. Henry sighed in disgust at the sight of the candle in his hand. "How sick can you _get_, man? First that Wally kid, then the milk, and now the _candle_? Get a old of yourself."

Jasper laughed and laughed as he continued to burn. "I SAW HIM! I SAW HIM! THE DEVIL! THE ONE WITH THE SOCK, THE ONE THE NOSY GUY WAS TALKING ABOUT!"

"Shut up already!" Henry yelled at him. "You deserve this! You want me to help, huh? What happened to _my_ needs? What happened to my _weed_? Why should I help you when you didn't help me?"

Jasper just kept on dancing wildly and Henry saw something carved in his chest: **1721**. Henry ignored that and spat at him. "Did you forget to stop, drop, and roll, Jasper? _Did you_? You stupid freak!" Jasper finally stopped and fell on his knees, the fire spreading out to the floor. Henry flicked him off. "I never liked your damned sneakers, anyway!"

Henry suddenly felt lightheaded and drowsy, and the world began to lose focus. "You… stupid freak…" he murmured one last time before blacking out.

**Woo… Intermission.**

**(Ding) Now continuing with your program.**

Henry woke up with a horrible headache. It felt like a hangover. "Damn it…" he mumbled. "…Shouldn't have drunken all that wine before." He heard the radio from the living room and groaned as he sat up.

"The body of a thirty-year-old-male was discovered today in the forest near Silent Hill. The victim was identified as a Mr. Jasper Gein. Police have ruled his death a homicide, and the details of his death were eerily similar to that of the Walter… Walter… Walter something murders some years back. Authorities are investigating. Have a nice day!"

"Go screw yourself," Henry said and he shuffled into the den. Another red note was underneath the door, and the television set was blaring static. "The hell…?" Henry groaned as he screwed his eyes up. He turned the television off and went for the red note…

**To be continued…**


	3. Requiem for a High

**Silent Hill 4: The Not-So Parody-(Requiem for a High)**

**It's been a couple of days since I got back, and those chains STILL aren't gone! It's okay now, guys, whoever you are, I get the joke, you can come out now…**

**Regardless, I found out some stuff about Mr. Walter. Seems like he was incarcerated for the murder of these two, sweet little children, Miriam and Billy Locaine. That's fine and all, but he really DID commit suicide in his jail cell. They buried him at Silent Hill, but the body was exhumed somehow. They never found it. Oooh. Spooky.**

**I visited his grave, anyway, being that I'm a journalist and I investigate stuff to write about. You should of read my article on the Marijuana plat that was masquerading as an orphanage… Damn, man. How far will people go for a high,—**"Hey, shut the hell up"**—but I checked it out and the numbers "1121" were written on his gravestone. WTH? I got a little spooked so I booked it right out of that place. And, well, here I am, back at the apartment. With the chains still there. I just heard something coming from the bathroom, so I'm a-gonna go and check it out! Lol! TTFN-Joe S.**

"…Whatever," Henry said, and he left the red note on the coffee table with the other one. The doorbell was buzzing again, and it was accompanied by some rather loud knocks that Henry remembered quite well, back in his "smoking" days…

_"Henry, it's the superintendent"—He always started it with this—"and I need your rent! You just moved in, and you're already owing me two months' rent! Come on!"_

_"Hold on!" Henry cried from his bedroom as he hid the joint away and wiped his nose and mouth quickly. He pranced over to the front door and answered. "Well, howdy there Mr. Sunderland! What can I help you with today?"_

_"Your rent, Henry," Frank Sunderland would say. "If you don't shape up soon you're going I'm going to have to kick you out, like the guy who lived here before, but HE would always climb back up, the fairy. Not to say he was gay, of course."_

_"Of course."_

_"Anyway, do you have the money?"_

_"Uh… Sorry, Mr. Sunderland, I don't…"_

_Frank would sigh. "I'll give you one more month, Henry, and you better shape up. I just hope you're not blowing your rent on pot, or something, just like that no-good son of mine. The bastard. He was always high on the stuff, and my poor daughter-in-law… He got so bad he overdosed her one night… The cops never found out but I knew the truth… He acted like nothing happened, but I couldn't control it. I went down there myself and shot him, right in the nuts. Mind you, I've shot quite a few people in the nuts. Let me tell you, once, when I went to that Silent Hill place for business-"_

_"You shot your SON, Mr. Sunderland?" Henry asked, high as a bird._

_"Yeah, and then I reported it to the police, but he ran away to Silent Hill. Never seen him since, thank-the-heavens." Frank rubbed his eyes. "In any case, I'm rambling. Just remember, you have one month. See you, Henry."_

_"'Kay, bye, Mr. Sunderland!"_

That was over a year ago, and Henry had gone cold turkey not too long after. It took some adjusting, but he remained clean. Even now.

He went up to the peephole and saw Frank and Irene outside. 'The biotch,' he thought. 'Where's my damn alcohol?'

"Henry, it's the superintendent!" Frank shouted. "Open up!"

"I can't, damn it!" Henry shouted back. "My stupid door is all chained up! How do you expect me to 'open up'?"

"Henry!" Frank sighed tiredly and fumbled around with a set of keys.

"What are you going to do…?" Irene asked as he searched for the correct key.

"I'm going to try and unlock his door, obviously," Frank told her as he inserted the key to Room 203 and turned it. There was a click, but the door wouldn't give. "_Son-of-a-bugger_!" Frank exclaimed suddenly and violently. "Argh, this is strange. The door won't open. Huh, I've seen a lot of strange things in my lifetime, you know. Just like that umbilical cord I've got in my room… and once, when I went to Silent Hill on business, _whoo-boy_-,"

"…Wait a sec, you have an umbilical cord in your room…?"

"Why yes. Y'see, there was this couple in this exact room, and they were real pot smokers. They ran off like bats out of hell one night, and what did they leave? A _baby_. It was creepy, because they kid's eyes were all bloodshot, like he was high… not that I've ever been high before… but when the ambulance took him away they forgot his umbilical cord, so I kept it."

"…That's very strange."

"Well, I didn't ask you, did I? Anyway, I'm going to slip this note under Henry's door and see if he can slip one back…" Frank scribbled something on a piece of paper and did exactly that. Henry snatched it up. He frowned at it; it was covered in "ketchup" and read: **you're gay**

**"**Okay, Mr. Sunderland, _let's play_," Henry said as he grabbed a pen from the counter and wrote something quickly. Beneath the door it went, and Frank got it from the other side.

"That was fast… hey…he called me a…"

"…biotch," Irene finished. Frank shrugged and wrote something else, and Henry took it.

**Stoner**

**Biotch**

**Fairy**

**Biotch**

**Man-whore**

**Biotch**

**Piggy**

'Damn it, I'm running out of names!' Henry screamed in his mind, and Frank sighed from outside.

"Why do you keep calling me a 'biotch', Henry? I'm only trying to figure out why you aren't coming out. Are you going through that condition Japanese kids go through? Where they can't handle the stress and lock themselves up in their room? I can't recall the name of it…"

"You keep trying, Mr. Sunderland," Irene said. "I have to go pick up some stuff, but I'll be back in a little bit."

"Alright, be careful."

"Yep."

"You better be going for my alcohol, Irene!" Henry said. He tore the note up and let the pieces fall into the trash bin. "This sucks! Irene is unreliable and Frank is as useless as ever! _Must I do everything myself_?" he demanded to the air as he slammed his fists on the countertop in aggravation. "…There's only one other option to find some alcohol… _and that's through the hole_."

**(Henry's head zooms in-and-out on a swirling background)**

Henry fell face-first into a puddle when he came out of the hole. He speedily jerked his head up and wiped the brownish water off his face. He stood up and wrinkled his nose. There was a stagnant, damp smell in the air. The tight, cramped corridor he was in was dotted with small puddles and other peculiar substances. "Where the hell am I _now_?" he wondered aloud when he heard a scream echo throughout the circular hallway.

"Help me, help me! He's coming for me! He's coming to kill me! He's going to _kill me_!" Henry rubbed his ears and proceeded down the hallway. He came upon the source of the screams: a fat, balding man stuck in one of the cells that were a part of the large center of the room. "Thank goodness someone's here!" the man cried when he saw Henry. "Please, you have to get me out of here! He's coming very soon!"

"Quiet down," Henry said as he folded his arms. "I have a few questions before I even consider helping you, whoever-you-are."

"Okay, okay, what?"

"First, where are we? And who are you?"

The man thought for a moment, counting his pudgy fingers on his right hand and then mouthing some things. At last he turned to look Henry in-the-eye. "We're in the cult's prison, I think. I was only there once, but I'm pretty sure this is the place."

Henry moved in closer. "Cult's prison? What cult?"

"You don't know?" The man whimpered crazily. "They were behind that orphanage, too. I was one of the supervisors there. They would sell all the drugs they produced… They were crazy, though, really crazy… They did things to the kids, and they would send 'em here, where some of them _died_."

"Right." Henry stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Alright, then, now, who's going to kill you?"

The man whimpered again. "I forgot his name, but he was really scary… He wanted to "shove a smoke up my ass". That's what he said… and I just woke up here. I know he's coming for me after all these years… he got everyone else, you know. Got them _good_…"

"Wait, hold on. The same cult that was behind that orphanage is behind this place?"

"Yeah."

"So that must mean that there's some weed here, right? Drugs? Narcotics? Tell me!"

"…I'm not all that sure, but I guess there would be…"

"_Alright_!" Henry grinned like a little kid who just got what he wanted. He started humming and then knocked on the man's cell door lightly. "Tell you what," he said giddily, "if you help me find this weed, I'll try to find a way to get you out of there, got it?"

He received a hurried nod from the man. "Yes, anything!" he squealed. "Just get me out of here!" Henry nodded and turned away. He ran to some double-doors and opened them, leaving the man alone and frightened.

The room that Henry went into had a hole and two doors to either side of him. A note was glued to the hole's wall, so Henry took it.

**Dang it… I'm new here, and they told me I had to lock the door to outside so I did… but I don't know how to get it open again. I asked my supervisor and he said I needed to take the extra set of keys in the basement, but it's really scary down there… They say there's a monster down there who'll eat you… Why did I have to take this job…? Those kids are freaky…**

"In the basement? Maybe there'll be something outside I can use to unlock his door… but a monster? Whatever." Henry put the note away and tried one of the doors, but it was locked—he presumed this to be to "outside"—so he went through the other one.

It was horribly dark in this new hallway, and Henry heard several low, monstrous noises coming from below him. He hugged the left wall and slowly made his way down the wide, circular path, occasionally cringing at the roars that were now reaching his ears. Something _was_ down there. He passed under several electric light bulbs as he went, and he saw that they were linked by a single wire. As he trekked deeper into the building the light bulbs became Christmas lights, scattered over the ceiling and hardly giving off any lights. 'Someone's running on a tight budget…' Henry thought when he finally reached another door. He took hold of the doorknob and turned it.

Awaiting him was the screeching of metal grinding against itself and the roaring of something. The alleged basement was quite large, and in its center was a great pool murky water surround by a concrete wall on all sides. Within it was the workings of a machine of some sort, and Henry found that this was giving off the roaring noises. He approached it and on the floor before it was a note similar to the one he had just obtained.

**I managed to get the keys, but I was so afraid I dropped them in the pool! I ran out of there as fast as I could. There's no way I could go in there and get the key back! The monster would eat me for sure; at least that's what that kid said. But my supervisor is going to get me for this! I should've been more careful. I need those keys to unlock the door and go throw down the sluice gates on the roof, since we need to get rid of some more bodies…**

Henry thought the last bit of the note was interesting, so he decided to keep it. He turned his attention back on the machine. "It won't _eat_ me but it'll rip me to shreds… I have to stop it somehow…" He saw a small piece of stone near the wall, so he grabbed it and tested its weight. The machine was really nothing more than a big water wheel, but Henry wasn't sharp enough to realize it was responsible for giving the complex power. He understood how to stop it, though. He stepped a little closer to the wall and chucked the stone at the wheel, but his timing was incredibly off and the stone rebounded off the wheel and smacked him in the face.

He hit the floor and his hand flew to his nose, and when he pulled it away it was swathed in blood. "Damn it!" Henry wiped the blood off with the cuff of his shirt and got to his feet. He heaved the stone at the wheel again. It landed in the water instead. Cursing, Henry repeated this multiple times before finally landing the a rock into the space between the two viewable wheels, successfully jamming them. They stopped moving and the instant they did the lights dimmed until they were off completely. Henry silently cursed and leaned over the wall carefully. "Okay… I should be able to go in there now…" And he did.

The water was cold and thick, and Henry was sure some questionable substances had taken up residence in it. The absence of light didn't help; he bumped his head on the wheel more times than he'd like and it was immensely difficult to swim and blindly reach for the key. Fifteen minutes passed when he finally climbed out of the pool, drenched and cold, with the key in his hands.

"Biotch… now I can go and unlock the door to outside…" He ambled all the way up to the room with the hole and tried the key, but for some reason or another the forsaken door wouldn't open. "_Confound it_!" Henry screamed as he took out his gun. "You damn door! _I'll kill you_!" Unfortunately for Henry, since his gun had been submerged in the water all of the bullets were useless. He pulled the trigger in vain five times, and then threw the useless weapon to the side. "Damn it! Hey, wait a second, I was putting the key in the wrong way!" Slapping himself for his stupidity, Henry inserted the key correctly and unlocked the door.

He ended up on a steel walkway that spun around the perimeter of the tower. He gazed up at the top through the clouds and shrugged. 'That note said something about sluice gates on the roof. I should go check it out… maybe some weed will be up there…' And so Henry started walking, and then jogging, and then running. The way went on for an eternity, it seemed. About halfway up, some of the moth things from the forest were clinging to the wall. As Henry approached they swooped down at him.

"Shit, I don't have a weapon!" he yelled as they pecked at him. After enduring several minutes of this Henry furiously grabbed one and ripped the wings off. He stomped on the damned thing and then did the same to the second. "Biotches…" he said before continuing to the top.

On the roof he found another note on the floor…

**I stole my supervisor's keys, but he'll find out soon, I know it. He always could find out those things. I'm scared. I turned the wheel, so the light is on in the Center Room. I'll have to turn the floors around so that we can deposit the bodies in the Weed Room…**

"_Weed room_?" Henry breathed ecstatically. "Either it's really called that or this guy's lying… but I'll take my chances. First, though…" Henry spotted the valve controlling the sluice gates and headed for it. "All I have to do is turn this thing and I should be able to access the "Center Room"…" He grasped the cold, rusted steel with his hands and, with all of his strength, turned. The valve hardly budged, and Henry's arms felt like gelatin. 'Shit, this thing is like glued in place…' He gave it another hard tug to no avail. "Damn it!"

"Hey, dude, I can help you if you want." Henry did an about-face and saw Walter standing there, staring at him with wide eyes. "Mr. Sock says that if we work together we can turn it."

"Has Mr. Sock ever lied to you before?"

"…I don't think so."

"Okay then, get your ass over here."

Walter nodded and took hold of the wheel beside Henry. They turned it with all of the power they could muster and it actually moved. The small, blocked-off water pools that surrounded the center part began to drain, and Henry smirked. "This is great!" he exclaimed, but he frowned. "I just don't know how to get to the Center Room."

"You can, uh, get in there by jumping down one of the corpse chutes on the first floor, dude."

"Corpse chutes?"

"Yep. That's how they got rid of all the dead children. At least that's what Mr. Sock says. Anyway, peace." He walked to the gate and Henry shrugged as he vanished through it.

"Uh… First floor?" So Henry went downwards and back into the facility.

Inside, the man was still clinging to the bars of his cell door, but he was no longer screaming like he had been. Henry flashed him a grimace. "What's taking you so _long_? He'll be here very soon!"

"Right, right…" Henry waved a hand. "I'm almost done. Just entertain yourself."

"Entertain myself? How am I supposed to do that? There's nothing in here!"

"You could, well, you know… anyway, I have to go." Henry smiled his fakest smile then went on his way. The man sunk back into the cell, whimpering the whole while. Meanwhile, Henry was trying each of the cell doors, and most were locked. In one of them he saw some beer cans, but they were all empty. In another he found a corpse. In another he found some pornography. In the last one he checked he found a hole in the floor. "At last," Henry said, "Now I can get this over with." He took a deep breath, squeezed his nose, and then hopped into the hole…

…and fell messily on the grimy floor of what seemed to be a shower room. Henry rubbed his sore head and looked around. There was a box of handgun bullets stowed away in a corner, so he got those and left the room. 'I must be deep inside, now…' He was a cramped corridor with doors to his left and across from him; both were locked from the other side, leaving only the ladder at the end of the passageway as an option. Henry walked towards it, but out of the cement exploded multiple, gangly, whitish mushroom things.

"The hell is _this_?" the man asked incredulously. The long, demonic mushrooms halted his progress. "Get out of the way, you damn things!" he yelled, but the mushrooms just kept on writhing and twisting. "Ugh…" Henry slowly made his way around them, nearly getting hit a couple of times. Once he finally made it to the ladder he stuck his tongue out at them mockingly and climbed up.

Now he found himself in a cylindrical, beige-painted room with a radiator and a desk with a note on it. The ladder continued upwards, and Henry read the note.

**Okay, this should be easier than stealing the keys… All I have to do is turn some wheels, look at the kiddies… I think that's the problem, though… I always get the feeling _they're_ looking at _me_… Oh God… Why did I take this job? I just have to line up the bloody beds on the second and third floors with the first one, that's all… My supervisor said the kids might puke due to the rotation of the floors, but I'm afraid _I _might puke…**

"Bloody beds?" Henry back away and noticed the peepholes in the walls, all of them separated from each other at regular intervals. 'They must let you see the kids… Those bastards. They're pedophiles _and_ junkies!' Anyway, Henry looked into each of the peepholes, but he didn't see anything too interesting. He found the bloody bed—there was a hole in that room, too—and then he climbed the ladder to the next floor.

There was a note on the wall here, and the desk was gone. There was another valve set in the middle of the room near the ladder. Henry read this note.

**I just rotated the floor… oh God… I nearly shitted myself. Oh, wait, I did… Ha… I just have to do the third floor now…**

**P.S.: Why do I keep writing these notes? My supervisor is going to find out the business with the keys...**

'Maybe it's because you're an idiot,' Henry thought as he left the note and began looking through the peepholes. He found the bloody bed fast enough, so now came the rotation. From reading the sap's notes Henry figured the valve would be the key. "I better be able to turn this one," he though aloud as he tried. And he did. The whole second floor of the facility seemed to shift to the right. Henry snickered triumphantly and went to make sure, and the bloody bed had moved one room to the right. He rubbed his palms together and went about aligning the second floor with that of the first. After that was done, he moved onto the third floor.

…**Finally, I'm done! This has been exhausting… Ah, well, time to go report to my supervisor; he's probably off-the-top about the keys, though…**

"Stop ending your sentences with ellipses, biotch," Henry muttered harshly before finishing the alignment business. He breathed a sigh of relief and left down the ladder. When he touched down he saw that annoying fat man and the kid from the forest—"Wally"—in the corridor.

"…You didn't tell them, did you? But they're dead! You didn't tell them about my addiction before, though, right? _You wouldn't dare_!" the man snarled at Wally, but the boy only narrowed his eyes in bewilderment before walking off and out of there.

Henry approached the man. "You know that kid?"

"Yeah, he's Walter, uh, I forgot his last name. He was at that orphanage. He was really creepy. I'd keep my distance."

"Whatever, but his name really _is_ Walter? What a coincidence! That guy with the sock is named Walter, the kid is named Walter, and the guy they're talking about on the news all the time is named Walter! Damn, so many Walter… Anyway, what's your name? I need to call you something if we're going to find the weed."

"Oh, my name's Andrew DeSalvo. I, um, got your gun." He handed Henry the handgun, which the brunet loaded with a fresh clip. Then Andrew turned away to go, but Henry grabbed his arm.

"Where the hell do you think you're going? We have to find the weed!" Andrew faced him and snorted.

"Weed? What are you talking about? I don't… I don't know anything about any weed." He smiled, but Henry was very far away from smiling. He aimed the gun at Andrew, and the man stumbled back.

"You mean to tell me you have no idea if there's any weed here?"

"…Yes."

"_You lied to me, you fat bastard_!" Henry screamed in horrific rage as he shot Andrew in the foot. The fat man cried out and clutched his toes. He could only watch in terror as Henry advanced upon him, insane and furious. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right here and now…"

Andrew sobbed and crawled out of the corridor. Henry put the handgun away and let himself calm down. The nerve of the man! The _weed_ was hanging in the balance!

"I only have one more option… I need to jump through those holes to find the "Weed Room"." He used the outside walkway to reach the third floor.

Inside, Henry saw a strange looking two-faced cloaked beast staring at him. It supported itself on its arms only, and he frowned at it. "What the hell are you looking at, biotch?" The creature pointed at him and whispered something, and Henry craned his head forward. "What did you call me, you two-headed abomination?"

The two faces exchanged glances before the creature ambled up to Henry and repeated the name in his ear. When it moved back Henry was scowling. "Okay, that's it!" He drew his handgun and started firing; the monster ran off and Henry gave chase. They ran around the circular hallway a good five times, Henry shooting and the monster screeching in fright. At last, after enough rounds, the thing crumpled to the floor, dead, and as Henry was about to stomp on it and snuff out its existence once and for all, he saw another monster was right in front of him. He quickly hid the gun behind his back and grinned.

"Uh, hello…" The monster screeched like its brethren—aside from it being a much more menacing and malevolent sound—and the process started up again, except that it was inverse. Now it was Henry was running for his life, and the monster was slowly gaining up on him. Seeing this, Henry darted into the nearest room, and before he could notice it was the room of the bloody bed, he stumbled down into the blackness of the room. He hit the rim of the second floor's hole and then continued to fall, and he crashed into the mess hall beneath the first floor.

Henry was unconscious for about five minutes, and when he began to stir his whole body aches in terrific pain. He stood up shakily, and from there he ambled over to the door.

---

A little earlier, Andrew had found the so-called "Weed Room" as he tried to escape from his assailant. His foot was bleeding, and before he knew what happened he had fallen into the green, polluted pool of water that filled up most of the room. "I… I can't swim!" he yelled. "Someone, help me!" After a few minutes he sank and gradually surfaced. Walter entered slowly, Mr. Sock poking in to take a brief survey of the room.

"Do you see any weird, uh, stuff, Mr. Sock?" asked Walter, scared, and he replied to himself, "_No_, there is nothing at all." The blond went in after some consideration and saw Andrew's drowned body floating in the water. "The dude fell in, I guess… Peace out, man, peace out." Mr. Sock growled in his ear, "You know what to do."

Walter reluctantly took out the purple pen…

---

"Another damn note." This one was lying on the table closet to the door, but Henry decided he might as well give it a read.

**All I have to do is input the right code and the door should open. I'm pretty sure it's "203" or something like that. We only get one chance, and if we get it wrong the laser above the door incinerates us. They wouldn't put that heavy of security, though, would they? Well, I think I'll give it a try…**

Henry looked down and saw a pile of ashes beside a haphazardly-placed streak of some type of liquid. He carefully stepped over this streak and inputted **203** into the pad on the door. There was a momentary click and then Henry spotted a violet-colored plaque on the door. This one read: **(SUBSTANCE) ABUSER**. Its picture was just as messy as the two before it. Henry put this one in his pants and went through the door.

There was no weed in this room, and all the blood-splattered walls were various tools of death and torture. In the water before him was the carcass of Andrew. On his stomach was **1821**, written in purple ink. Henry snickered. "Serves you right," he said. "I'm just sorry I couldn't watch you _die_… and _laugh_ while I was doing it."

His vision became hazy all of a sudden, and everything started to go black…

---

"…Argh, I'm _HUNGRY_!" Henry shouted to his ceiling fan as he awoke. No weed. No alcohol. No _nothing_. His escapades into the hole were not benefiting him at all. He sat up and ruffled up his hair in exasperation when he heard the doorbell ringing. No prizes for guessing who it was.

"Henry, I got you your wine…" Irene said outside in the hall. "But why won't you open your door to come and get it…? The hole's too tiny to put it through…" She showed him the brown bag then put it down. "Look, I'll show you…" She made a circle with her left forefinger and thumb then inserted her right forefinger into it. "The hole's too little (:3)… and where's my tampon…? I got you the alcohol… so where is it…? I'll show you it…"

"_Bur_n in _hell_, Irene!" Henry yelled at the top of his lungs as he fell back into the recliner in his living room. He tried to think of what to do now, but nothing came to mind. He was out of food and alcohol, and he had nothing to live for. "The only thing left to do is go back in the hole…" And when Henry went to the restroom, something was waiting for him.

**To be continued…**


	4. Worlds Apart

**Silent Hill 4: The Not-So Parody-(Worlds Apart)**

There was something in the toilet. Something like a rock. It glistened in the water, and Henry's right eyebrow rose at the sight of it. 'That's odd… I haven't taken a dump in awhile…' Henry looked around, as if there was actually anyone else in his apartment, and rolled up his sleeve.

_SPLOSH!_

Out came his hand, and Henry saw that in it was a blue, crystal-like stone, with a golden chain attached to it. "Who put this in my toilet? Was it you, _Francisco_?" No answer. Henry sniffled and dropped the stone into his pants. He turned his attention to the hole.

It was larger and rounder, just like before, and Henry frowned. 'I better leave all my other stuff back in the chest; I feel like this one's going to be a doozy.' As Henry returned to the living room he squinted at the orange, evening sunlight that was now streaming in through the windows. He continued to look at it when a decapitated head floated past one of the windows. Henry hopped back in surprise. "The hell?" He steadily approached the windows and the head came back upwards past the other window. Henry slowly turned away and the head started to float downwards, but when he turned back the head zipped out-of-sight. He edged back and saw an inch of the head's scalp in the window; upon moving his foot back he saw the inch of scalp disappear. He moved his foot more and saw more of the head appear, then he returned it to its original position. Sniggering, Henry turned away completely and waited a millisecond before whipping around to the window. The head was nowhere to be seen.

"Damn it!" Henry fumed. He stowed away most of his equipment in the chest, save for his handgun, and then went back into the restroom, ignoring the cork of the wine bottle as it tried to worm its way through the hole in the wall.

**(WOOSH…) Intermission.**

**(Ding) Now back to your scheduled program.**

Distant noises that sounded like monkeys killing each other in various grotesque fashions were the first things that greeted Henry as he tumbled out of the hole and into the slimy alleyway. His head hit the wall and that rocked him quite a bit. Nevertheless, Henry got to his feet and peered down the elongated alley; overheard he saw some brownish shapes leap from rooftop to rooftop so fast he could make out only blurs. Disregarding this, Henry started down the alleyway. The light here came from the green glow that the buildings seemed to percolate.

When Henry came out he saw that he was on a rooftop; a lower one than the ones the things had jumped from. It was nighttime here, and Henry recognized a few of the buildings he could see in the distance. He went down a small set of steps and passed by a car before something flew down and landed on the hood of the car, flattening it and imploding the glass. Henry turned and saw that the thing in question resembled something like a monkey, at least it had a monkey's mannerisms. Other than that it had no fur, only some white, disgusting flesh with touches of brown here and there. It roared and scratched its armpits while jigging around. Henry mimicked its movements and its roars, laughing shortly afterwards before plugging a bullet in its head. The monkey-man fell back and died. Henry flicked it off and continued down to the next area of the rooftop.

As he went he heard gunshots and loud curses from above him. There were more noises similar to the ones of the monkey-man, and then something crashed down behind him from a much higher building. Henry saw that it was a man probably twenty years older than himself. He was holding the greatest revolver ever in his right hand, and then Henry knew who he was instantly upon seeing his tie.

"Richie!" he exclaimed in shock, but the man growled at him and trained his revolver on his forehead.

"It's _Richard_, gods damn you!"

"Whatever, Richie, you-,"

"Call me that again and I'll blow your nuts off, you damn stoner!" Henry immediately silenced. "Yeah, I know who you are! You're that stoner from 203, the one who's holed himself in his room. But wait… if you're here too, then maybe something's wrong with the whole apartment… I mean, that hole, and this place…"

Henry seemed intrigued now. "You have a hole too? Damn it… that means I'm really _not _high. Or wait, maybe only stoners can only come here… but I've been clean for over a year, I swear."

Richard aimed his revolver at him again. "Are you implying that I'm a stoner, _stoner_?"

"Sort of, I guess. Why are you so antsy?"

"I'm not antsy, and I'll admit… I used to smoke that stuff back in my college days."

"You went to college?"

"Obviously, you shit-headed stoner. Where _else_ do you think I would get that stuff?"

"Ah, good point."

"Anyway…" Richard looked about himself and paced, his arms crossed. "You know, the guy that lived in 203 before you… He disappeared for a few days too."

"What do you mean?"

"He was just like you. Depressed or something. I mean, he wouldn't come out."

"Listen, I'm not depressed! I'm trapped in my room! There's chains blocking the front door and some Walter guy's the one who put them there! He left me a note!"

"Okay, okay, simmer down," Richard told him. "I'll go along with this chain thing for a second, if only to prove my point. Alright, let's say the guy before you had these chains too… don't you think he would've had the hole too?"

"If you mean he hallucinated it like I am due to the constant fixation on drugs but the actual absence of them in your system."

"No, not like that! I'm talking about if this has already happened before. Maybe he came here too, and he might still be here! When they finally got inside the place he was gone and it was in pretty bad condition, but he wasn't there. He could be trapped here."

"That's the _craziest_ thing I've ever heard, Richie. Who was this guy, anyway?"

"He was a journalist or something. And I told you not to call me Richie! Do you _want_ your poor excuse of nuts gone?"

"Don't call my nuts poor. I bet they're bigger than _yours_." Richard shut up. He sighed and walked past Henry towards the door.

"I'm getting out of here," he said quickly. "You should do the same thing if you value your sex. Those monkey-things go for your valuables." He disappeared through the door and Henry had the feeling he'd forgotten to tell the man something very important, yet knew Richard would ignore anyway. He shrugged and started to follow him when two of the monkey-men dropped down and chortled horribly at him.

"What are you monkey-asses laughing at?" Henry demanded as he readied the handgun. Before he could fire, however, the monkey-man to his right had lashed out at grasped his crotch. Henry squealed while a horrid feeling crept up into his lower gut. He cried out and unloaded most of the clip into the monkey. It stumbled back and scratched its groin; nevertheless, Henry shot it and its partner in the head, killing them instantly.

"_You biotches_! Did I give you permission to touch me there? _Ugh_!" Henry stomped on their groins as hard as he possibly could before going through the door Richard had gone through. He came out onto the top landing of a catwalk which extended some way down. It was pitch black down there, aside from the faint, pink glow that came from the neon lights that were posted at regular intervals. Henry shrugged and vaulted over the railing. He had planned to land on the nearest landing, but he instead conked his head on the edge of the railing, flailed wildly down to the next one, and then continued to fall until he fell into a pile of garbage.

Henry rolled out of it in a state of extreme pain and struggled to throw the banana peel from his head. From the wall phased the beanie ghost, who was laughing at Henry. "_Gee_, if you were dead like _me_, you wouldn't have that problem."

"Shut the hell up," Henry retorted. "At least I don't have an obsession with weed."

"_What_? Yes you do. I do, you know, have some left over from what I found at the orphanage."

"No, I won't accept your weed. I have something of an honor code about that," Henry replied, and the beanie ghost shrugged.

"Your loss," it said. "I haven't seen any around, anyway."

Henry shook his head. "Everyone in this city has some, I swear. I'll find some soon enough."

The ghost shrugged again and then disappeared through the wall, leaving Henry to climb painfully to his feet. He rubbed his neck and looked around, not that there was much to see. He groaned and went through the nearest door. On the other side, Henry found himself below another metallic catwalk. Groaning again, he proceeded to climb it, when three monkey-men dropped down to halt him. These were different, however, from the ones Henry encountered before. Bulging out of their chests were grotesque, testicle-resembling organs of some sort.

Henry drew his handgun and taunted them with it. "You little biotches, you want some of _this_? Come and get some, then!" He aimed and pulled the trigger, but the only thing that came out of the gun was a click. Henry ground his teeth and squeezed the trigger several more times, yet still no bullets blew forth from it. He chuckled nervously at the monkey-men and backed away.

"Uh, looks like I don't have bullets left…" He grinned and made to dash away, but the closest monkey-man pounced on him and restrained him on the floor with its arms and legs.

"Oh, _shit_!" Henry screamed as the monkey-man's tongue slipped out. "_IT'S GOING TO FREAKING RAPE ME! HELP_! _HELP ME, PLEASE_!" His pleads reverberated throughout the open city, and a moment later the beanie ghost phased through the wall again.

"Hey, you're going to be monkey-raped!" it exclaimed, and hovered nearby. "I've _got_ to see this!"

"How about a little help?" Henry asked desperately. "The tongue's going to go _INTO MY MOUTH_!"

"Chill out, chill out," the beanie ghost said. It pointed at the organs protruding from the monkey-man's chest. "Its balls are right there; just hit them and it'll die, although I really wanted to see a monkey-rape." Henry sighed and pistol-whipped the organ quickly. The butt of the weapon struck it and the organ exploded, splattering Henry with a ton of white, gooey liquid. He screamed in disgust.

"_Monkey stuff_! Get it the hell _off_ me!" He vainly tried to sweep the stuff off of his shirt and face with his hands, but he succeeded only in spreading it over himself more.

The beanie ghost motioned at the two remaining monkey-men as the other one fell back and died. "You've got some more trouble, you know." Henry looked up and barely avoided the second monkey-man as it attempted a pounce. He threw his handgun at the organ and the weapon connected, killing the monkey-man instantly. The last one roared and came at Henry, and the man reluctantly shot his hand through the organ.

The beanie ghost shuddered. "That's gross, man. I'm getting out of here before you start doing something even funkier." The ghost left and Henry stared at his arm with a grimace.

"Shit, this sucks." He sighed. "The things I do for alcohol…" He walked up the rest of the catwalk and opened the door at the end.

Meanwhile, Richard was walking out of a high alleyway that led to a single door. "This place is like some shitty maze… I wonder if there's any popcorn around here…" While he was musing he wandered through the door and bumped into Henry. He jumped back. "What are you doing here, stoner? And why are you covered in all that white stuff?"

"It's monkey semen, Richie," Henry replied, and then the man slapped him across the cheek with his revolver.

"I told you not to call me that, _damn it_! Are you deaf or something?" Henry cupped his cheek and shuffled away.

"What the hell's _your_ problem? You're acting like someone who's gone cold turkey, for Pete's sake!"

"I killed a Pete once," Richard said, almost as if it were an after-thought. "I shot him in the back alley of the 'Heights, you know the place. It's where that other guy always waited for dope from that priest…"

"Right, right, just don't hit me again," Henry said. "That thing hurts like a biotch. And those _hurt_." As he continued to rub his cheekbone he looked about himself. "Hey, where are we anyway? Looks like a sports shop… Hey, _Richie_!" Richard had already departed through another door, and Henry grimaced. "Fine, go screw yourself."

Henry gave the door the bird and then snooped around the small sports shop. There were various aisles dedicated to certain equipment and gear, but when he stumbled upon a rack of baseball bats Henry decided to give one a swing. "This should be good against those monkey people… damn, I hope my water works… this stuff's all dried up and crusty now…" Nevertheless, Henry tried the door Richard had left through. Surprisingly, it was locked, so Henry cussed it out before trying the other door; this one wasn't locked.

He saw that this new area was some type of pet store, and he saw three of the dogs from the subway and forest munching on something. Henry, rather than creeping around them safely, whistled very shrilly. The dogs turned to him. "Hey, doggies!" he yelled. "Time for your medicine!" He drew the bat and went to bash their skulls in, yet one of the dogs bit him in the ankle again and wouldn't release him.

"Let go, you stupid mutt!" Henry cried as he slammed its back with the bat. He then took care of the other two before limping to the exit across the room. As he stumbled through this one he saw that he was in an area identical to the pink-neon-light from before. Henry, having not learned his lesson the first time, launched himself from the top to the bottom, hoping that he would fall on a cushion of some sort; he didn't.

"Son-of-a…" He got to his feet and stretched out his limbs to try and rid himself of the excruciating pain. "This is really gay," Henry said as he opened up another nearby door. "I haven't found any alcohol or weed yet…" The door swung open and Henry teetered on the edge of the doorway for a second. He fell back and saw that the door opened unto nothing; a sprawling abyss lay below him. 'Perfect,' he thought when he saw a red ladder hanging out in the air before him. It led up to who-knows-where, but Henry decided he really didn't have a choice in the matter; it was the weed and booze or _nothing_.

So, Henry made a frantic leap to the ladder. He managed to grab the lowest rung, but nearly lost his grip. Muttering curse after curse, Henry pulled himself higher and started to climb. And so he climbed. And climbed. And climbed. And climbed. And climbed. And climbed. And climbed. And climbed. And climbed some more. And some more. And some more. And yet some more. And when Henry finally reached the top, he slipped on a banana peel and went flying through another doorway.

"Damn monkey-people and their bananas…" Henry dusted himself off and saw that he was now in a kitchen of sorts. It was dirty and dingy, and the plates were piled up in the sink. Multi-colored streamers hung from the ceiling, and on the table across from him there was a half-eaten birthday cake. Henry grinned. "Awesome, whoever lives here has to have some alcohol!" Henry began snooping around the whole kitchen and dining room, throwing open cupboards and drawers and the refrigerator. Unfortunately, all of them were empty.

"Shit! Where's the _booze_?" Henry demanded as he kicked in one of the cupboards and stubbed his toe. As he hopped around in pain a voice spoke up from behind him.

"Dude, I drank the last of my liquor." Henry stopped his antics and swerved around to see another ghost lying on the floor, a giant sword of some kind pinning him down. He was dressed in a similar fashion to the beanie ghost, just minus the beanie.

"You're the guy that lives here?" Henry asked. "You're all ghostly, too. Must suck."

"Yeah, it does, but you can't die anymore so it sort of balances out. Anyway, while I don't have any drinks, I know where you can find some."

"Are you shitting me, because I'm really not in the mood."

"No, no, of course not. You can get to the _Bar Ashfield_ if you go from here and take the elevator."

"_Bar Ashfield_? Whatever." Henry went for the door, but found that it was locked. "The door's locked, man!"

"I know," the ghost said. "The key's in my pants. I'd get it myself… but I have this giant sword impaling me and I can't reach. You know how it is." Henry walked over and inspected him.

"They key's in your pants? Why the hell is it there?"

"I don't know. I was too drunk at the time to realize what I was doing, and then that guy with the sock came in…"

"Whatever, I don't want to hear your stupid story. I'm not going to reach into your pants, though."

"Well, the key is the only way to get the door open. Hey… if you took this sword out, I could get it and unlock the door."

"No way!" Henry answered immediately. "I don't know where the hell that thing's been!"

"Me neither, but it's not like you have to keep it or anything. You just have to take it out. It couldn't be any worse than taking the key out. Trust me on that one." The ghost winked and Henry felt physically, as well as mentally, sick.

Henry contemplated his course of action for a moment, and then sighed. "I guess I don't have a choice. Alright, hold still…" He planted his foot on the ghost's chest and grasped the hilt of the sword. With a mighty breath Henry pulled at the sword will all of his strength. It didn't budge in the slightest.

"Come on, dude, put some back into it!" the ghost said, and Henry shot him a nasty glare. Taking another breath, he pulled and pulled until it felt like his entire back was going to give out due to the strain. Finally, the sword slipped out and Henry collapsed in exhaustion. The ghost got up and reached into his pants, fished around a bit, then brought out a wet key, titled: **Wet Key lol**

"Here's the key," the ghost told Henry. "Thanks for your help." It floated through the wall and was gone. Henry sighed and hesitantly grabbed the key and unlocked the door. The second he was done with it, he threw it to the side and continued on his way with a new destination in mind: _Bar Ashfield_.

Henry entered a large room next, with a giant fan spinning overhead. The floor appeared to be composed of dead skin, and he gingerly stepped over it with disgust. Leaving that place, Henry found himself in a parking lot. The sounds of the monkey-people were very much alive in this place, so Henry hurried on through another alleyway and towards a massive elevator that was built into a steel wall. Filled with giddiness at the thought of his alcohol so close, Henry pushed the "Call" button. The button was jammed.

"Oh, you've _got_ to be shitting me!" Henry snarled as he smacked it with a fist. Frowning, he turned to leave, and that's when the elevator doors _did_ open. Henry performed an about-face and backed away at what he saw.

A man wearing clothing identical to Henry's walked out, and in his hand was a large, gnarly axe. His shirt was splattered with stains of crimson, and his tousled brown hair was parted at a place opposite to where Henry's hair was parted. He was a bit more rugged, though.

"Who the hell are _you_?" Henry demanded, fearful and awestruck at the same time. The man stared at him dumbly.

"Uh, I'm Henry. Henry Townshend."

"Henry Townshend?" Henry folded his arms and bowed his head in thought, and then he gasped and bounded back, pointing at the other Henry with an accusatory finger. "You're the guy those damn telemarketers keep confusing me with!" he exclaimed. "You live in the southern 'Heights, right? I'm at North Ashfield Heights."

"North Ashfield Heights?" the other Henry asked. "There isn't a North Ashfield Heights, though, only a _South_ Ashfield Heights, where I live." He scratched his head. "Are you sure you're not confusing me with someone else?"

"No, of course I'm not!" Henry tugged at his hair in bewilderment. "Oh, but it doesn't matter, anyway!"

"Hmm…" The other Henry looked around and sighed. "This isn't the same place I was just in. There's something different about it…"

"What are you rambling on about?"

"Nothing. Anyway, I have to get going." He walked past him but then looked back. "Oh, and another thing—watch out for that kid." With that, the other Henry ran off, leaving Henry dumbstruck.

'What was all that about…? Whatever, it's not important.' Turning back to the elevator, Henry reaffirmed his grasp on his bat and entered. Once inside, Henry noticed that the "Top" button for the elevator had malfunctioned, so he had no other choice than to press the "Bottom" button. Instantly the doors shut themselves and he heard gears begin turning. The elevator started to drop slowly, and then it increased in speed as it went. Henry leaned against the back wall of the elevator, and when he looked to his left he saw _another_ elevator was passing by upwards, and through the mesh fencing of the wall he saw Richard and the little boy, Walter.

Richard was staring straight into the boy's eyes, his revolver very apparent in his hand. "Now what would a little shit like you being doing around here, huh?" Walter took several steps back, but Richard advanced forward even more. "Do you know something about what's going on around here, well do you? You know… you look _a lot_ like that stoner kid that used to hang around the 'Heights all those years back… Yeah…" Richard chuckled maniacally, and that's when Walter bolted it out of there. "Wait, get back here!" Richard yelled while chasing after him.

"Don't _molest_ the kid, Richie!" Henry tried to say, but their elevator was already much too high up. After a few seconds Henry's stopped and the doors opened, revealing a ladder nailed to the side of the wall. Henry descended it and dropped down into some type of shower room. Water was dripping down and the place reeked of mold and excretion and stagnant water. Pinching his nose, Henry worked his way towards another ladder, and this one led him out of a manhole and onto a narrow street which he recognized very quickly.

"Hey, it's the little Chinatown!" he cried happily while running around in glee. Unfortunately, monkey-men and some more dogs were there to greet him, so Henry raced out into the next area, where a large catwalk was present. Dreading this horribly, Henry ascended it as fast as he could—in the process he killed a stray monkey-man—and walked aimlessly into a bar. _Bar Ashfield_.

"I finally made it!" Henry exclaimed as he jogged up to the bar, avoiding the pool table before it smacked him in the thigh. Much to his dismay, however, nothing was present behind the bar or on any of the shelves. It was completely empty and barren. There was not even a single, dusty glass. Henry was open-mouthed. "You call this a _bar_? Who in the hell runs this place?" As if to answer his question, he noticed a notice on the counter.

**Due to there being a theft next door, the manager wanted us to program a new code for the security on the front door. Since he's got short-term memory, we had to make the code something that could easily be referred to, so we made it the last few digits of the bar's telephone number. I wasn't the one who made the decision, though; it was Glenda. Glenda… gosh is she _hot_. I mean, her th-eh, I shouldn't really be writing about this here… I haven't taken my medication for today yet, so…**

"Security? Code?" Henry murmured as he looked at the entrance door. There was a numbered panel on it, but he had no way of finding out the specific digits of the telephone number. 'Wait a minute, I can see the bar's sign from my apartment window! Perhaps I can find some booze yet!' Filled with a renewed hope and purpose, Henry climbed through the hole in the bar wall.

**(WOOSH…) Intermission.**

**(Ding) Now back to your scheduled program.**

When Henry returned to Room 203, he heard a rapping at the door. "Damn it, Irene, is your only purpose in life to cause me agitation?" Upon checking the peephole, though, Henry saw that it wasn't Irene. No one was even there. Instead, on the hallway wall was something etched in what Henry still continued to believe ketchup.

_Dude, uh, I think you better check on your neighbor. She's pretty hot… Oh, wait… Lawlz, wrong neighbor!_

Henry groaned and trudged back to the wall's peephole. "Irene, are you okay?" he asked tiredly, and while at first he didn't see anyone, soon he spotted her walking into her bedroom, wearing what appeared to be a stripper version of a nurse costume. "Irene, what the hell is _that_?"

The woman stopped and looked around with wide eyes. "Who said that…? Is it my conscience…?" she asked stupidly.

"No, Irene, it's me, Henry."

"Oh, Henry…!" She giggled and crawled back up the hole. "What are you doing peeking at me again, Henry…? Didn't you want your alcohol…? 'Cause I drank all of it…"

"You drank the _whole bottle_? I was going to get it from you after I got out of here!"

"…I'm sorry Henry, it's just that I got _really_ thirsty…"

"Whatever, I'm leaving to go get some alcohol. Have fun screwing yourself." He stomped to his bedroom furiously, seething, "I swear, once I meet her face-to-face I'll rip her ovaries out! That way, she'll never be able to enjoy children of her own!"

Henry figured it would be safer for the children, too. Regardless, he peered out of the window and saw the sign advertising _Bar Ashfield_. The last four digits were **6789**. 'Sweet,' Henry thought. 'Now we can get this show on the road!'

**(WOOSH…) Intermission.**

**(Ding) Now back to your scheduled program.**

Henry jammed the password into the panel, heard the desired _CLICK_, and found himself on the greatest catwalk EVAR. And I really do mean EVAR. Henry could not see the top at all, and the passage leading lower had been destroyed. 'That's a long way up…' Out of the darkness Henry heard a sudden, high-pitched scream, followed by, "_GET THAT SOCK AWAY FROM MY MOUTH_!"

"Hey, that sounded like Richie!" Henry exclaimed, but several ghosts began to climb out of the walls. Henry's brow went up like that and he started running as fast as he could up the catwalk. His footsteps rang in-and-out of his ears as the ghosts followed him quickly, all of them reaching out for whatever weed he might have. The beanie ghost was hovering before him on the next landing, laughing.

"Hey, you've still got all that monkey stuff on you!"

"_OUTOFTHEWAY_!" Henry screamed monstrously as he shoved the beanie ghost to his left; it tripped over the edge and fell to the bottom.

Meanwhile, Henry sped up and finally made it to the last landing, where fortunately there was a door. On the door's surface were the numbers, **307**, and below that was another plaque. This one was a deep violet, and the picture inscribed in it was even harder to identify. It read, **FLUFFY**, and Henry did not see the correlation. Nevertheless, he shoved the plaque into his pants and opened the door…

He was in Room 307 of North Ashfield Heights, and in the center of the room was an electrical chair. Sitting in it was Richard, and he was being shocked and electrocuted. His skin was sizzling and his eyes were lolled back in their sockets; blood streamed down them and his nose. On his forehead was **1921**.

"Richie, you idiot, look what you've gone and done now!" Henry said as he approached. Behind the chair little Walter was pointing through the window at something, but he mysteriously vanished all of a sudden. "Hey, where'd you go?" Henry questioned, and Richard started to try and speak.

"…T-T-That… is _not_… a… k-_KID_… it's t-the… 1….12…1…"

"Come on, Richie, spit it out!" Henry urged, and the man cried out.

"_I t-told… YOU NOT… TO CALL ME THAT_!" The chair's power source shut down and Richard fell still, dead. Henry slapped him and shook him by the shoulders.

"Richie, who is the kid? Tell me!" Alas, Richard was dead, and Henry felt that woozy feeling resurface. Everything started to go black…

**To be continued…**


	5. Running the Rent

**Silent Hill 4: The Not-So Parody**-**(Running the Rent)**

Henry rolled off of his bed and hit the floor with a thud. The stereo in the living room was crackling its damned white noise, and he got up with a grimace. "Damn it…" he muttered while stealing a glance outside through his window at the crimson sky.

After shutting the blasted stereo off and giving it a whack for good measure, Henry noticed that there were two things wrong with the picture of his apartment; there was a hideous black splotch on the wall and there was yet another one of those red notes under the door. He decided to check the note first.

**Whoa, WTF? I checked out that freaky hole, and what did I find? Well, I don't really know, but there was some crazy shit out there. And then I come back, and Willy—that's what I called the weird, ghostly guy who wanted some Marijuana over there in that forest—was trying to crawl through the wall over the laundry machine! I was like, "Dude, what in the blue-cooly-hell are you doing?" and Willy said, "Meep". Grah.**

**Anyways, I've been doing some thinking on that Walter guy after I found out the pliers were gone and the windows were sealed with some type of Cox thing-y. Supposedly Walter killed himself after he was arrested for those murders, but I don't think he really did kill himself. Nope, there's something behind all of this that I'm missing… Hey, Willy, stop eating my pizza!—Joe S.**

"Who the hell is this Joe guy?" Henry asked himself with growing anger. "First he says there are pliers in the laundry room, and then he says there isn't any! I hope that Walter guy he keeps rambling about gets him, wherever the hell he is…" Henry crumpled up the note and threw it behind him; it landed harmlessly on the coffee table. Grumbling, he glanced at the splotch on the wall.

While Henry had at first mistaken it to be a splotch, it was really something of a depression in the wall. It had the vaguest impression of a face, and it seemed eerily familiar to Henry, but he had not the smallest clue as to where he had seen it before. He told himself that he was stoned again and decided to dump his stuff back in the chest, keeping with him the bat; there wasn't much left to do now but return to the hole.

Halfway to the restroom, however, Henry's stomach rumbled. He stopped and rubbed it stupidly with his palm. "…I keep forgetting I haven't eaten in days! Shit…" Sighing, Henry entered the restroom and saw that the hole was now entirely round and free of any jaggedness. Surrounding it was some type of border, consisting of various demonic symbols. They appeared this way only to Henry, however, for these were merely little chibi drawings and Japanese symbols. Henry's mouth formed a thin line.

'They're the same as the one beside the message on my door… Don't tell me…' He gasped. "This Walter guy is an _otaku_, isn't he? I _hate_ otaku!" Tightening his grip on the bat Henry climbed into the hole, steeling himself for whatever lay beyond after this new revelation… because things were about to get much hairier for Henry. In all senses of the word.

**Z-O-O-OM… Intermission**

**(Ding) Now back to your program!**

When Henry fell out of the hole, he found himself in an apartment room covered in "ketchup" and grime, very similar to how his room had been in his dreams. He rubbed his sore ass and stood up, inspecting his surroundings. It definitely appeared to be a room from North Ashfield Heights, of that he was sure—but he didn't know whose room it was until he spotted the humongous amount of gay pornography magazines that littered the floor and covered the walls like the newest coat of fresh paint.

"_Fudge_," Henry said with cold finality. "I'm in that guy's room—_Mike_, that bisexual pervert who I saw peeking up Irene's skirt the other day! _I've got to get the hell out of here_!" Henry raced for the door, but it, like most of the other doors from Henry's past adventures, was locked. He backed away and frantically tried to think of someway to get out of that place, for it reeked of homosexuality and vanilla cream. Henry saw that there was another hallway branching off from this room, and down the corridor there was a room in which he presumed was Mike's bedroom—'Oh _shit_.'

Henry doubted the lame-ass would keep his keys anywhere lying around. Well, maybe he would, but Henry felt pretty sure—hell, _completely_ sure—that the key to freedom was in the bedroom. Gulping, he started towards the room, holding back the urge to puke as his eyes fell upon all of the heinous pornography that was the wallpaper of the apartment. 'Where does this guy get all this stuff…?' Henry didn't know, nor did he wish to find out, but this was like Chocolate Porn Overload. It wasn't even turning Henry on, and, admittedly, Henry was easily turn-on-able.

Regardless, he went into the bedroom and saw two ugly-as-his-mother's-face photographs on the wall, contrasting all the other hideous stuff. One photo displayed someone Henry had seen every now-and-then: the nurse who worked at St. Gerald's Hospital, Rachel. The other photo was of Frank, and sticking out from his clenched teeth was a cigarette, and in his hand was a giant revolver. A Colt, Henry would assume, although he knew jack-shit about guns and weaponry and everything related. His father had a gun very similar, that's all, and that's what he had referred to it as. Every time he thwacked Henry with it.

Shuddering from the quick flashback, Henry found that a key was hanging out from behind the Frank photograph. Henry snatched it up and saw that it was the key for 105, which was the superintendent's room. Behind the other photograph was the key to this room, and can you say God bless? Henry breathed a sigh of relief and turned, seeing several sheets of paper on the bed, which had some very questionable stains on the sheets. On the spots that _weren't _covered with pornography, of course. Henry checked these papers out.

The first two were what seemed to be entries to a journal. Henry grimaced at them.

**Oh… oh my dear Rachel, you are so prettiful… oh so very _prettiful_… That guy Richie, I mean Richard, said some mean things to me the other day, and so did the hippie, but they cannot stop our love! No one can! My heart beats ever so quickly when I see you, I cannot hold back my joy as I come back and dream and dream and _dream_ of you! Oh, Rachel! Oh, Rachel my love!—Mike, June 1st.**

Henry frowned. 'What an obsessive, Grade-A freak-_o_,' Henry thought as he picked up the other journal entry and started reading it.

**Rachel, oh my love, why must you run from me so? I only thought to give you that nice present the hippie shot… I tried so hard to put it on that pole… oh Rachel… how I long to hold you in my arms… why didn't you take my doll?—**'I wouldn't touch anything that belongs to you with a twenty-foot-long-pole'**—I looked through your garbage to try and find a piece of you… oh and I found some hair. This wouldn't be your pubic hair, would it? I wanted to be with you so much… I needed a piece of you with me always… so I ate-**

Henry stopped reading, for his eyes had wandered and thus he puked ugly, ugly vomit onto the bed, coughing fervently afterwards. He dropped the journal entry and backed away to the closest, prepared to retch again if he had to. "You sick, _sick_, son-of-a-_biotch_! _Ugh_!" Henry reluctantly approached his steaming pile of vomit as he saw the final sheet of paper resting atop the pillow of the bed. Upon closer inspection Henry found that it was actually a page from a magazine, one titled, _Mystery and Occult Magazine_.

**TEACHING DOPE—Education in Narcotics and Death**

**Many might know about the quiet little tourist town known as Silent Hill… but I'm sure that very few people know how the town is really the front of a giant, illegal drug ring spanning the town and nearby counties! That's right—there a couple of hidden facilities, as well. One is the orphanage, which is run by the SILENT HILL SMILEY-ORPHANAGE-THAT-HELPS-MOLD-CHILDREN-ALL-OVER-THE-WORLD, but don't be fooled, for that is really just the alias of what is supposedly the drug-religious-cult-ring that is running the town.**

**This cult treats the orphans horribly and use them to farm their Marijuana**—"_Weed_"—**and other various narcotics. And if these orphans behave badly they are sent to the terrifying "Happy Tower", which is a tower located near Toluca Lake. Horrible, gruesome things are performed on the children here, but no one has really ever been inside.**

**Aside from these things, strange noises and sightings have been reported from the orphanage—which is called "Happy House"—at night. What could these things mean? There is something missing from all of this, I'm sure.**

**I have always believed that the truth must be protected and unearthed, and I have set my life on that belief, so that our future can be bright and hopeful.—Joe S.**

"Cut the crap," Henry said between fits of giggles. "You don't mean any of that, you bull-shnizzler. Hmm, what's this?" Henry turned the page over and saw something written on the back; it was by Mike, obviously.

**Oh Rachel… how I wish to kiss you over and over again… your room is 106, for one day you shall be mine! Oh yeah, I need to ask Joe for the next issue, though… I had to take his article to remember his name… ha…**

Henry, disgusted, physically sick, and offended, grasped the keys and went to the door. He quickly unlocked it and left that heinous place. Outside in the hallway, Henry really saw that he was in the apartment complex, aside from the fact that the walls were now totally blanketed by some strange, wiggling, red parasites. Henry gaped.

"I really am in the building… but _damn_! Frank must have had a revamp or something, because the place is looking a lot less shitty!" He was at the end of the hallway, and the floor had been replaced with some type of firm, steel mesh. Splattered on this at regular intervals were more of the red parasites, but Henry wasn't all that bothered by them; they hardly presented a threat. The carcasses' of some monstrous dogs lined the walls, and Henry peered at them quizzically when someone hailed him.

"Hey, dude, could you come over here for a sec?" Henry looked up and saw Walter, the guy with the sock and navy coat, waving at him with his free hand. Grasped in that hand was what appeared to be a torn piece of white paper, and something had been scribbled on it. Henry shrugged and walked on over to Walter, who was standing before Room 202, Irene's room. "Uh…" Walter squinted and seemed to think very hard on whatever he was attempting to say. At last, he spoke.

"I've been waiting for you, man, 'cause I wanted to ask you who lived here. I've got this paper here"—he gestured at it—"but I'm not totally sure. And Mr. Sock doesn't like it when I'm not sure."

Henry grinned despite himself. "Here? Oh, just the _ever_-so-bimbo-tastic Irene Galvin. In fact… I have some business to take care of with her, myself." Henry, still with that sick grin, began slapping the side of the bat on his left palm. "Oh _yes_, some business indeed…" Walter eyed him peculiarly and shuffled away a bit.

Henry ceased his little display of sadism and glanced at Walter out of the corner of his eye. "By the way," he said, "were you the one who killed those dogs over there?" He motioned back at the corpses and Walter shook his head.

"Nope, that was Mr. Sock. He tends to get violent from time to time, but you have to be able to vent sometimes, or else you'll get all antsy. At least that's what they told us at the orphanage."

"Whatever," Henry said, and he walked past Walter to the door. "I'll see you later; I have to go check if Frank has any alcohol."

He left and Walter held up two parted fingers in an expression of peace. He turned his attention back to the door and tapped his chin. "What do I do now?"

"You knock," Mr. Sock replied maliciously, and he did so.

---

Henry found himself in the foyer of North Ashfield Heights, on the third floor. Not wanting to waste any time, he descended the stairs hastily and was well on his way to the first-floor entrance when his old friend the beanie ghost floated out of the wall.

"Well look who it is," Henry said with a turn of his bat. "I've been waiting to see you again, my friend." The beanie ghost chuckled nervously and scratched his head through the beanie.

"Hey, man, yeah, I see you're doing well… uh, you wouldn't happen to know where there's any weed, would you? I kind of, uh, smoked it all already…"

"Sucks for you, then. I'm on my way to go steal some of Frank's anyway. But you're not getting any, if that's your game." He strode past, but the ghost grabbed his arm.

"Aw, come on man! What have I ever done to you?"

"Don't remind me," Henry remarked, and he shook the ghost's arm away. "Anyway, you should just be glad I'm in a good mood right now, or your face would be replacing your ass right about now." And with that, Henry turned and disappeared through the double-doors. The beanie ghost sighed and floated upwards to the next floor in search of more weed.

Meanwhile, Henry killed two more dogs as he proceeded to Frank's room. On the wall beside the door was a white plaque that read, **SUPERINTENDENT**. Henry was afraid for a moment that Frank would turn out to be the next victim, but then he realized that the plaque would be _on_ the door. This was just a sign.

'Whew, that was a close one,' he thought. 'Not that I really cared for the old fart, anyway…' Henry removed the key from his pocket and slid it into the keyhole above the doorknob. After turning it and hearing the resulting _CLICK_, Henry entered Frank's domain, and nearly screamed at what he saw.

Some type of odd, Frank dummy with black beads for eyes had been posted in front of the door, and Henry surveyed it bemusedly. "What in the hell is this? Some type of twisted greeting thing?" Brushing it out of the way Henry traveled further into the room. It was a complete and utter mess; clothes and underpants were strewn about, empty take-out food containers littered the place, and most of the furniture had been toppled over. On a board on the wall were posted a few newspaper clippings. One read, **TONY IRWINDLE DIES AFTER STINGRAY STAB,** and another read **FAMOUS NOVELIST FOUND DEAD AT HOME** and a final one, older than the others, read **LOCAL COUPLE GOES MISSING**.

"…Tony Irwindle _died_? No! I liked _The Alligator Tracker_! And he was _British_! British people don't die! _When did this happen_?" Henry checked the date and saw it had occurred three days ago; that was when his entrapment had begun. "Son-of-a-biscuit!" Henry exclaimed. "_I missed it_!"

Downhearted, yet still determined to find his weed and/or alcohol, Henry peeked into the bedroom, where Frank had his new, tiger-skinned computer set up and his diary lying on his bed comforter. Henry groaned. "Come on, Frank, where do you have your stuff? There isn't even a kitchen in this place!" Curious and a little irritated, Henry took the diary in his hands and started reading…

**June 8th—I had that dream again today, and the umbilical cord I keep locked up started to smell. Smell of what? Drugs. The whole shebang. I'll admit I've sampled my share of them**—"What a junkie"—**but that was when I was young and naïve and the dream of this place was still a dream. Still though…**

**The dream was about a man with long hair smoking a bongo outside Room 203, and he was drawing something. There was a sock stretched out over his head, so at first it looked liked he had put his underwear on his head, when in fact it was a sock. In any case, he was drawing different little Japanese doodles in a sketchbook, one of those "Drawing Blocks" that were all the craze a few years back. It's hard to see what he's drawing, but it looks like that girl, Irene Galvin, though I can't be too sure…**

**It doesn't matter, anyway, I guess. I've got more important things to worry about. Like getting Henry out of that room. Hmm, that prick Richie hasn't been shouting like he usually does. I better go check if something's wrong…**

"…None of this makes any sense," Henry said as he set the diary back down on the bed. "I mean, there's too many questions and not enough answers…" In this surprisingly deep moment, Henry took notice of the ring of keys hanging from a small rack near the back of the room. Also nearby was a shelf full of notes, and Henry skimmed through these fast. One of them was a note Frank had written to himself: **Have to return that bag to Miss Rachel.** The other two were red notes, just like the ones Henry received from under his door.

For some reason, he couldn't manage to decipher the words on them. It was as if they were blurry and distorted in his vision; nevertheless, Henry stuffed them in his pockets and left the room, which is when he remembered that Rachel's room had been Room 106. Glancing at the ring of keys, he went into the room.

This one seemed much more orderly than the others, but it still had that ugly, disgusting feel about it. It chilled Henry to the bone, yet he was still capable of snooping around. He looked in the trash bin and saw quite a few crumpled up pieces of paper, all of them emanating that same odor Henry smelled in Mike's room. He cringed and went back to exploring. In the bedroom, near the phone, he saw a notice with a phone number on it: **123-4567**.

"I wonder…" Henry picked up the receiver and inputted the number. Just as he thought, there was a ringing somewhere close by. Satisfied, Henry left the room and headed in the direction of the ringing.

He was eventually led back to the foyer, where he saw Walter sitting on the steps of the stairs gloomily. He was twiddling his thumbs—an incredibly difficult task to perform when you had a sock over one hand—and staring at his shoes. Henry took a seat beside him.

"What's up with _you_?" he asked, and Walter sighed.

"…The door to Room 202's locked," Walter responded, and the disappointment in his voice was clearly evident. Henry furrowed his brow.

"Did you knock?"

"_Yes_!" Walter started to sob uncontrollably. "That's what Mr. Sock told me to do too, but Miss Galvin still wouldn't let me in! What am I doing wrong…?"

"Nothing, nothing," Henry said. "Listen, you have to keep in mind that Irene is the biggest bimbo ever. When she tries to make a peanut-butter-and-jelly-sandwich, it comes out as a jelly-and-peanut-butter sandwich. She probably lost her key somewhere, I'm telling you." Henry stood up and looked towards the ringing noise. "You know what, I'll find you the key!"

"…Really?" Walter asked innocently, wiping away some tears. Henry nodded.

"Yeah, just let me finish up something really fast."

"O-Okay." Henry sped off to the second floor and Walter stared after him.

---

Henry found the ringing phone in the hippie's room, Room 205. And he wasn't too surprised. The place was a wreck, and he cut the phone quickly. On the counter he found a video cassette, which he took without question. There was also a note on the counter.

**I finally shot that damn cat that's been running around the whole place. I'm sure Richie, err, Richard would have done it eventually, but I just COULD NOT take it anymore. I know it belongs to that cat lady over in 207, but screw her; that thing was kicking up my allergies anyway. The next thing we have to get rid of is that creep, Mike. He won't stop stalking Rachel. It's like he's obsessed with her. I'm going to formulate a plan with Rich… Rich_ard_, Rich_ard_, to smoke that guy.**

"_You_ killed that poor cat?" Henry thought aloud. "Good job! I didn't exactly like that thing either…" Gathering his bearings, Henry returned to the foyer, only to find that Walter was gone. Shrugging, he continued on towards the third floor, in order to check out the cat lady's room. He had been pretty shocked to find that the hippie had no drugs to speak of, but Henry had been prepared for that. The cat lady had to have _something_.

…But she didn't. In fact, the room was entirely vacant, except for a lone refrigerator in against the wall and a massive, gaping hole in the ceiling. A red-painted ladder led up into the darkness, but that meant little to Henry. Mayhap there was something illegal in the refrigerator, for it smelled as funky as Henry did right about now, what, with all the monkey stuff still on him.

He approached the fridge reluctantly, not wanting to wander too close in case something popped out and grabbed him. 'Nah, that kind of stuff doesn't happen!' Henry thought, although he'd seen a good amount of oddities since his entrapment in Room 203 began. Shrugging it off, he took hold of the handle and swung the refrigerator open.

There weren't any drugs, but something bloody and wrapped in the gayest-shirt-Henry-had-ever-seen was in there. "The hell? Is that the cat...? Hey… _it is_!" He laughed stupidly while staring at the cat's bloodied corpse. Off to right of it there was a torn, red note as well, and Henry recalled that one of the red notes he acquired earlier had also been torn. "Ayuh," he said as he took it. "Bad kitty."

Closing the refrigerator door, Henry was at a blank on what to do next. 'I still have to find Irene's key… and that's if she even lost it…' Frank's set of keys _was_ missing #202, though Henry was still just a little suspicious. "Have to find myself some weed or something first."

The ladder beckoned him to climb up it, and, in the end, Henry did, and right into Room 307. It was dark in there, but Henry could see the electric chair still in the middle of the room—the one Richie… Rich_ard_ had died in. "No loss there," Henry murmured as he picked up the revolver that had been left on the chair. Yep, it was the same one Richard had been parading around with back in the city, and there was also a message engraved in the left side of the barrel…

_To my wonderful Richie.—From Rwanda van Perwinkledick_

"What a _loser_!" Henry exclaimed. "Not even this chick got his name right!" Yet Henry wondered if it really _was_ a chick that was responsible for the message. If not…

For a second Henry believed he had seen Walter standing by the window, but there was no one. Wandering over to it, Henry saw that through it he could spy on Irene, and, by-golly, her lights were on!

"Yep, you just didn't want to let Walter in, now did you?" Shaking his head, Henry decided he'd get to the bottom of this by asking her straight up. Therefore, he departed back down the ladder and went back out into the second floor hallway. As he passed by Room 203, though, he had a feeling.

The door and immediate area surrounding it were not covered by the red parasites at all. In fact, they appeared to be as spick-and-span as Henry had ever seen them. This certainly bugged him a bit, but he decided to just slip the red notes under the door. After accomplishing that, he—trembling—returned to Mike's room, and through the hole.

**Z-O-O-O-O-O-O-OM… Intermission**

**(Ding) Back to your program**

Henry wasn't all that surprised that the notes were underneath the door, but first-things-first. He knelt down beside the hole and hollered, "Irene! _IRENE_!" No response. None at all. Henry screamed her name again, but the bimbo didn't come. Fudge.

"That's brilliant," he groaned. "What the hell is she doing?" Henry wouldn't like to have known.

Anyway, with not much else to do he checked out the first red note.

**Whoever's behind this practical joke sure isn't pulling any punches! That hole leads right into a forest in my backyard! Well, it's not really MY backyard, but the 'Heights' backyard. Oh, who gives a wail? That place was really pretty creepy, too, with those fake doggies…--Joe S.**

The first torn note had this to say:

**Oh, beejeebus, my head sure does hurt today! I think I'll just go and take a little catnap. But… I forgot to return Irene's key… I forgot why she gave it to me, though I think she wants some _action_! If that's the case, it's fine by me! I'll sneak in there one day with the traffic cone on my head and go, "RAWRR!" Anyway--**

It was torn at this point, so Henry got the last note.

**--This headache is pretty bad. I'm seeing sheep doing it on my couch… Uh, I think I just dropped Irene's key near the sink… Why am I still writing this? Oh yeah, the "Weedster" told me to go and deliver some package to Room 201. Whatever. He's in 206…—Joe S.**

"Weedster? Could that be the guy who sells weed? And Joe was the one who had it… wow." Henry rubbed his eyes and ambled on over to the sink, and, lo and behold, the key really was there, just tucked underneath the drawers. "No shit…" Henry muttered as he took it. The tag on it read **Dolly Key lol**.

"Heh, so all I have to do is give Walter the key and then go see what this "Weedster" guy is all about." Grinning, Henry went back through the hole.

**Z-O-O-OM… Intermission**

**(Ding) Now back to your program**

Walter was back in front of Room 202, murmuring something to Mr. Sock all the while. Henry went over to him and extended the key out. "Welp, I got the key. It's all yours." Walter looked up at him and then looked at the key, and his eyes widened as if it was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on.

"…Whoa, you actually found it! OMG, thanks, man!" He took the key and kept on admiring it with some inane fascination. Henry shrugged and left, determined to get to Room 206, which was at the end of the hall. He heard Walter unlocking the door and entering, but that was the least of his concerns; there had to be some weed within Room 206. Using Frank's keys again, he went inside…

…and came face-to-face with the beanie ghost, who was holding the largest back of weed ever. "H-Hey, man…" the ghost greeted. "What's going on?"

"Give me that weed," Henry ordered, but the ghost hovered backwards.

"I can't do that, man. Do you know how long it took me to find this?"

"Nope, and I personally don't give a shit. I want that weed."

"Why? Dude, once you get it you don't even smoke it!"

"Do I _have_ to smoke it? Of course not. It's all about just _having_ it."

"That doesn't make any sense, and even if it did, well, I _still_ wouldn't give you the weed!" It clutched the bag closer to its chest, and Henry chuckled maniacally while shaking his head.

"You just don't get it, do you? You better give me that weed now…" He brought out Richard's revolver from the front of his pants(:3) and then said, "_or I'll blow your friggin' head off_!" Before the beanie ghost had any time to escape, that's exactly what Henry did via two squeezes of the trigger. The floating cadaver didn't float any longer, and the bag's contents spilled out over the floor while some stray ones seesawed in the air. In an instant he was down on his knees, rummaging through the stuff like a hobo searching for food in the garbage.

"The weed, yes, _the weed_!" he cried, throwing it up and then rolling around in it. He was in a state of pure ecstasy. At last, he and his weed were together again! Except for one thing. The weed wasn't weed. It was just paper shavings, and Henry realized this with growing dismay as the pieces rained down on him.

'…No…' he thought weakly, 'NO!' He started to tear and shred it all up. He screamed and destroyed in his rage. He even stomped on them quite a few times. Henry's little rampage went on for a bit, but it wasn't until he heard the scream that he stopped. 'What in high-hell was _that_?' He crept out of Room 206 and heard another bloodcurdling scream coming from 202.

Henry cocked an eyebrow and walked up to the door, which, like all the others, had a plaque on it. He took it into his hands, and for some reason this one had no depiction. The title read: **(INSERT TITLE HERE)**. The plaque was also totally white. He shrugged and stuffed it in his pants before sliding his hand over the doorknob. "Something going on in there? Irene?" He eased the door open and there was Irene, wearing her ridiculous nurse outfit and lying on the carpet, covered in blood. On her back was etched **2021**, but even still, she was conscious.

Standing before her was the Walter kid, and he was just dawdling. "You better get out, little boy…" Irene breathed. "…That guy with the sock is in the restroom… he'll get you…" She blacked out, and Henry snickered.

"Look what happened to you now, Irene! You bimbo!" Her last words still ringed in his ears, though, and he looked down the hall.

'The guy with the sock is in the restroom? Does she mean the murderer?' Henry dashed over to the door and banged on it fiercely, while the kid joined him. "Hey, anyone in there? Are you the killer?" The door opened, and Walter peered out.

"Uh… yeah?"

Henry let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, it's just you, Walter. I thought you were the murderer for a second there."

"Murderer?"

"Yeah. Irene said the killer was in the bathroom." Walter yelped and bolted out of there quickly, standing with the other two as they looked into the restroom for any signs of the murderer. "Hmm, I guess he's not in there," Henry mused as Walter slowly walked off. "Hey, you wouldn't have happened to see anyone strange jaunting by, would you, Walter? Some guy with a sock?"

The coated man glanced at the sock around in his left hand, and then back at Henry, who was doing the same. He eyed Walter, then the sock, then Walter, then the sock, then Walter, then the sock, and then finally Walter. Gradually, his eyes gleamed with horrified recognition.

"NO. WAY."

"It's, it's not what you think!" Walter said. "Mr. Sock made me kill them, I swear!"

Henry still could not believe it. "You're… that Walter guy?" he sputtered. "But… _but_… Holy _shit_… That means you're the guy who killed Cynthia, Jasper, Andrew, and Richie! And you're the one who locked me up! And if that's the case… you're an… _otaku_." Henry whispered the word as if mere mention of it was blasphemous.

Walter bit his lip. "I didn't technically kill Andrew, though, I swear!"

"All otaku…" Henry seethed, "_must die_!" He whipped out Richard's revolver and fired, destroying the lamp Irene had set up near her loveseat. Walter had ducked out of the way and ran out of there, and little Walter did the same. "Get back here!" Henry yelled, but the same woozy feeling enveloped him, and he blacked out…

---

When Henry woke up back in his apartment, it was nighttime. He sat up groggily in his bed and screwed his eyes up. He could hear sirens coming from outside, and it took a moment for them to register as the sirens of an ambulance. He shuffled over to the window and looked out over the parking lot. 'That must be Irene… so she isn't dead yet… damn it!' He sighed and was in the process of going into the living room when he heard a crash from the laundry room.

The brunet peeked inside and saw that his laundry machine had somehow coughed up "ketchup" and stained the entire wall. He narrowed his eyes at that and felt the bulge in his pocket(:3) vibrate. He took the stone from the toilet out and inspected it. It was glowing, _resonating_—there was some powerful presence in the laundry room, alright. Henry groaned and returned back to the living room, where he heard the vaguest of mutterings coming from Irene's room. First, however, he grabbed a strange piece of paper from below the door. He then went to eavesdrop on the two men in her room.

"Got another one, Bill," the first voice said. It was gruff and exasperated. "She got numbers on her too, God bless her soul."

"And we still don't have any evidence to pin a suspect!" the other police officer informed him. This guy was younger and a bit spunkier. "It's like a ghost is behind these murders…"

"That's not exactly what it was, Andy. It's those goddamn aliens."

"Aliens? Why would aliens be killing people, Bill? It has to some type of copycat for this Walter fellow."

"Don't be stupid, Andy; it's the aliens. I've been through all these Walter cases, and it's _always_ been the aliens."

"Aliens don't exist," Henry stated matter-of-factly before standing. Out of options, he went back to the hole, but it was completely blocked off. It had been filled with some type of cement, and Henry doubted he could bust through. "Shit…" He remembered the paper he had found, though, and how the drawing on it slightly resembled the stain on the wall. He returned to the laundry room.

"I don't know if this'll work, but what the hell?" Henry slapped the paper onto the stain and suddenly the wall melted away to reveal a large, vague, circular depression. Around it were four square indentions, and in the center was another, above some type of message. The message was in more "ketchup".

**His world is crazy, man, and as the Sock grew more powerful so did his world, and other worlds started to swell into it. But he's obsessed with freeing his Mother, and she is at the center of his world, down into the deepest part of him. That might sound kinky, but we have to think realistically; you want to find him? Then go downward. Ever downward.**

"That didn't make any sense," Henry remarked under his breath. "But it looks like I can stick those plaques into those squares." And that is what he did. As he stuck the white one into the center, the wall caved in completely, revealing another hole. Henry frowned at it.

"Son-of-a-biscuit, it's back… I think it's time to kick some otaku ass! But I wonder where it'll lead to now?" Taking his bat and revolver with him, Henry climbed into the new hole.

**To be continued…**


	6. The Attack

**Silent Hill 4: The Not-So Parody-(The Attack)**

Henry flew out of the hole and onto the sanguine tiled floor like a rocket, and his chin collided with the floor quite hard. His bat rolled from his hand and to the far side of the narrow room. Pushing himself up with his hands, he took a look around.

It appeared to be a locker room of sorts, perhaps a washing room. There were some washing bins to his left, and several aisles of lockers lay to his right. "Where in the blue hell am I?" Henry muttered as he climbed to his feet. He brushed his hands off on his jeans and then took his bat up. The lighting fixtures above him flickered and then died out. He wrinkled his nose and pushed the door open.

The next hall he walked out into was essentially a hub for all the other rooms of this floor—Henry slowly came to realize that he was in a hospital, due to the room titles. One read **X-RAY**, another **DESECRATION**, and yet another read **FRUITCAKE ROOM**. Henry saw that he had come out of the **WASHROOM**. Shrugging and passing **STORAGE**, Henry found a door whose plaque, which actually read **VIDEO ROOM**, had been taped over with a torn sheet of index paper, which had **weed room lol ** written on it in purple and with a cute chibi drawing at the end of the message.

"Weed room? Sweet!" Henry thought aloud. This sudden, awesome revelation dragged him out of his gloom and beat him with a wet chicken, at least that's the best I can describe it. And this beating through use of the wet chicken made Henry very, very happy.

He pushed the door open and skipped inside, disregarding the door as it eased eerily closed. However, Henry suddenly realized that there was no weed in this room. Dusty, decrepit equipment lay huddled together in the far corner, and in the space between him and them were rows of crooked metal racks. The other corner was hidden away by a green curtain. There was a light coming from behind it, and the light revealed the silhouette of a hunkered man with something on his hand. Nevertheless, Henry ignored that and set his gaze on the outdated television set that was situated in the upper corner as it flipped on.

The image was snowy and flickered at first, but soon it transitioned into the flashy image of an aged, stained sock with tiny black beads for eyes. Henry cocked an eyebrow up at it in ruffled surprise.

"Hello Mr. Townshend…" came a low, rich voice from the speakers. "I want to play a little game…" Henry thumbed Richard's revolver and trained it on the space between the sock's eyes on the monitor.

"You got it wrong, _corncup_. It's Town_send_!" He squeezed the trigger and the screen exploded into numerous shards of glass. This was followed by a curse as Walter came ambling out from behind the curtain with Mr. Sock on his left hand and a video recorder in the other.

"_Dude_!" he whined. "You just blew out my TV! That took me two hours to set up, man! And Mr. Sock got mad at me for being such a hippie! He even slapped me!"

Henry leveled his eyes on the sock and groaned. "Screw the freakin' sock!" he exclaimed while ripping the white cloth off of his hand and holding it above the barrel of the revolver. Walter screamed in horror.

"_Oh my God_!"

Just as Henry was about to blow the thing to oblivion and back, however, Walter stole it from him and shoved him out of the room, and he landed hard on his back. "You, you _meanie_!" he yelled, and then shut the door and locked it tight.

"What the fudge was that about…?" the brunet murmured as he got up. He could easily shoot his way into the room, but at the moment Henry didn't feel like it. Walter was in there, and as far as Henry was concerned, that guy was _whack_. Besides, there was no alcohol or weed for him there.

He turned and then suddenly saw the door to **X-RAY** slam shut. Furrowing his brow in puzzlement, Henry entered and gasped in disgust at what he witnessed: his old friend, the beanie ghost, with his left hand in his pants, hovering in front of a lit board littered with x-rays. On the floor there were some more x-rays, and Henry made absolute sure to step on them as he approached the ghost.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he asked, and the ghost whipped around, startled, and Henry stifled a laugh. "My God, half of your face is gone!"

"All thanks to you," the beanie ghost said bitterly as he calmed. Henry was studying the board now, his palms pressed up against it. He gritted his teeth and then slammed his fists on the board, sending some x-rays fluttering to the floor.

"Irene isn't dead yet?" he questioned in agitation. "What the bloody hell! That bimbo is probably still around here, then!"

As Henry stomped around in fury, the beanie ghost was watching him from the corner, wary of any impulsive actions the man could perform. Like shooting the rest of his face off, for instance.

"Do you have any idea how much that _pisses me off_?" Henry roared as he bashed the board again. "But, then again… this time I can kill her myself! Yeah, why didn't I think of it earlier?" Chuckling maniacally, Henry turned to the ghost. "Where's this bimbo? Do you know? If you do, hurry up and spit it out."

The beanie ghost shrugged. "Dude, I just got here. She'd probably be in a patient's room, on the second floor. I went up there a little while ago, but I didn't stay."

"Hyuk-hyuk-hyuk, I don't give a shit. Now get the hell out of my way and _go find me some weed_!" The ghost didn't need to be told twice; he was gone before Henry could even regain his breath. But this was good. Irene was here, somewhere, and he could finish her off once and for all. And after her, he would get Walter, that otaku son-of-a—

In the next room—an office—he heard the sound of muffled voices. Angry and just a tiny bit curious. He shoved the door open and looked in, but no one was present. Instead, he saw that a stereo—a _ghetto_ one, that is—was on and it was the source of the voices. This reminded Henry of the cassette he had found, but he had left it back in Room 203, so that was that. However, this little recorded conversation piqued his interest…

"Uh, sir, the baby is, um… it's smoking Mark's cigarette…"

"_And_, you careless whore? Take the damned cancer stick away, lest he die! Now wrap him up in that blanket! No, the other one! _The blue one_, for Christ's sake! Oh, you're—,"

The voices ended abruptly and were followed by a series of hard slaps, and then cries and whimpers. Henry had heard enough. He shut the stereo off and left the room, returning to the "hub" and searching briefly for the stairs. He saw the door from a distance—it was near the elevator, but it didn't cross his mind to try this, for some reason—and headed over to it quickly. And then tripped over something in his path.

He cried out in late surprise and his nose smacked the floor—had the force of his fall been any stronger it might have broken—and then rolled around to see what had felled him. It was a purse of pink leather, and linked to the carrying strap was a keychain of _Hello Kitty_ lined with fluffy, pink material. In his state of bewilderment, however, Henry saw a lump of pink and shot at it once.

The blast from the revolver sent the purse into the air, all of its contents spilling out and leaving a wide, ragged hole in the leather on both sides. Gradually Henry realized what was what, and then he cursed the purse to high heaven. "You damn purse! What the hell's your problem? Can't you see I'm pretty pissed right now? _Can't you_?" He nudged it with the barrel of the revolver, and then cast his gaze on the spilled contents.

There was a pink notepad with the words _Give me some sugar!_ and there was some lipstick and other accessories. There were several bills of cash, which Henry scooped up without hesitation, and then there was something disturbing: a tampon. "A tampon…?" he muttered. A sick, twisted grin appeared on Henry's face. "I hope you menstruate long and hard this month, ye bimbo!" And so Henry stomped on the tampon. And he stomped on it again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And yet again. And yet another time. And one more time. And again. And—

Finally Henry let up, satisfied that he had stomped the tampon into nonexistence(it really just got stuck to the sole of his shoe) and, with a large smile, went to the stairs.

It was extremely dark, but luckily there were some lights still functioning to provide sufficient illumination. At least sufficient enough for Henry to navigate his way up the stairs, which for him was a very difficult task in-and-of itself. He frequently tripped and stumbled over the steps, but he at last made it to the top. And there, lying on the landing before him was a box of revolver bullets.

"Heh, sweet!" Henry exclaimed as he gathered the bullets and began reloading the gun's chamber. Some of the lights behind him twinkled with their last breaths and gave out, yet he paid no heed. Henry started humming a random tune as he opened the next door to the second floor.

He was now standing at the end of an unimaginably long hallway. It seemed to stretch on for an eternity, and lining it were twenty-two doors, eleven on either side. There were signs on these doors too, and the nearest ones proclaimed, **JELLY ROOM**, and **RAINY ROOM**. 'Jelly room and rainy room? What the hell?' Henry thought, but that was the least of his concerns as he saw the other occupants of the hallway racing towards him. Well, they weren't human, nor were they monster or ghost—they were wheelchairs.

Henry burst out laughing. "Now _this_ is good! _Wheelchairs_! My God, if I—," He didn't have a chance to finish as one of the wheelchairs slammed into him—namely his groin—and tipped him over. He hit the sanguine-splotched floor and dropped Richard's revolver, but managed to hold on to his bat. The wheelchair started to glide over Henry's legs, back-and-forth, back-and-forth, and the brunet groaned as he sat up. "_Motherfudger_!" Screaming with rage he hit the chair's left wheel and sent it sprawling to the floor, where he proceeded to destroy it heatedly. Bits and pieces of metal and bolts and other miscellaneous materials flew out and around him as he mashed the wheelchair to a pulp. The other members of its clan edged in and out of the vicinity, fearful of being attacked. At last, Henry delivered the _coupe de grace_ and backed away, smirking smugly.

"Biotch!" he said. "That's what you get!" Laughing to himself, Henry started advancing down the hallway when he heard the oncoming squeal of electric motors. He glanced back and saw the rest of the wheelchairs speeding towards him with a vengeance. Blinking in surprise, he quickly grinned and prepared to strike the nearest chair. "I guess you all don't learn by example! Well, I'll be happy to make—," He didn't get to finish this time either as the wheelchair rammed him down across the floor. He looked up to see all of the wheelchairs roving to finish him off, and he hurriedly sprang up and dove through the door to his right, which was marked **HEAD ROOM**.

Henry rolled to a stop and got to his feet, swinging his head around quickly for any disturbances. This new room was quiet, though, but it _smelled_. A corridor extended out from his current spot, but just as he was about to start traveling it the hairs on the nape of his neck crept up as a giant gust of wind blew down on him from behind. Sweating nervously, he turned around slowly to see a massive rendition of Irene's staring down at him, the whole right side of its face purple and swollen.

"Holy—," Henry started, but the giant Irene head suddenly spouted out some fast gibberish that vaguely resembled Japanese. Its voice boomed in a very unfeminine like fashion, and Henry's voice was caught in his throat as the head began floating towards them. He bolted away down the corridor as it spouted louder, Japanese nonsense that boiled his blood like the worst poison ever created.

He pushed his legs beyond their limits as Irene Head gave chased, gaining distance with every second. Henry didn't bother stealing a glance back at it—he could feel its horrendously warm breath on his back.

Something large and slimy touched his neck, and he thought, briefly yet horrifically, if it was the tip of Irene Head's tongue. He looked back and his face went white. It _was_ Irene Head's tongue. He screamed shrilly and squeezed his eyes shut, having no idea that he was about to crash into the wall, which he did.

With an _oof!_ he hit the floor and attempted to crawl away from Irene Head, which was now upon him with its incessant Japanese blabbering. 'This is it…' Henry thought. 'This is the end!' However, the end never came. Irene Head only hovered closer and started caressing Henry with its left cheek. Henry was frozen for a moment, completely unable to do anything. Then he screamed, shot up like a bullet, and dashed down this new corridor, finally seeing a door ahead. But Irene Head's Japanese babbling reached his ears, and with one strong dive he escaped through the door…

…and back into the hallway. "Huh?" Henry breathed, fatigued by his sprint. "I'm, I'm back… but at least I got away from that weird, giant, Irene head!" He laughed at this, absorbed in his triumph, when he heard the electric motors again. Turning to the sound in horror, he saw the wheelchairs once again coming towards him, at an even faster pace. "Oh, _shit_."

Our hapless hero ran through the next door and this time the wheelchairs followed. This new room was filled with odd contraptions and multiple bunks covered in what appeared to be urine and, well, hell, maybe lemonade. Henry didn't have the opportunity to vote for the latter as he bound down the corridor leading from this room and into another marked on the outside as **BUTTERFLY ROOM**, and how true that was. A good amount of moth creatures from the forest floated up from the grilled-floor and assaulted him. Crying out in annoyance, Henry swatted most of them away when he heard the wheelchairs enter the room. He made a last-ditch effort and burned through the cloud of moths, barring his face with his arms. He jumped through the door and only three wheelchairs chased him; one had been stopped by the moths.

Henry gritted his teeth and escaped into another room, this one **MUFFIN ROOM**. What hit him first was the smell of berries, chocolate chips, and bread. The floor was a mess of yeast and dough, and Henry left down the next corridor as the wheelchairs kept on his trail. They repeated this process several times, Henry running in to a room and out of another and the chairs going after him. At some point, and Henry had no idea when it happened, Irene Head began chasing after the wheelchairs too, trying to get _him_.

'This is like freakin' Scooby-Doo!' Henry thought as he ran through another door and came out of the opposite one, this time with the wheelchairs racing out from the one opposite him and Irene Head bursting out from behind. Henry screamed like a little schoolgirl and threw himself to the side as the wheelchairs collided with Irene head as it—_she_?—opened its mouth wide and swallowed the three of them whole.

Henry got himself up on one knee and watched as Irene Head turned to him, eyes twinkling with adoration as it floated over to him. 'Think, Henry _think_!' Henry all of a sudden as an idea. He grinned and darted over to another room—**DECAPITATED HEAD ROOM**—and stood with his back to it. Irene Head came over to him and, just as it was upon him, he side-stepped, threw open the door, and tackled the giant head inside. It gave a loud Japanese curse of shock and then Henry had slammed the door shut, propping his bat against the doorknob to keep it locked, which didn't make any sense, since Irene Head could just ram it open. Regardless, it didn't.

"There!" Henry said happily. He crossed his arms, appraised his work for a second, found himself satisfied, then turned and started down the hallway when a voice hailed him.

"H-Hey, w-w-wait!"

Henry spun around in an instant, already pushing down the trigger of the revolver as he did so. The ghost just barely avoided the bullet with a cock of the head, and it zoomed past to blow off a chunk of plaster from the wall.

Henry lowered the gun and narrowed his eyes at this newcomer. His skin was charred black—severe burns, most likely—and he was wearing a tight green shirt with some random logo on it, along with a pair of sloppy jeans and a pair of red tennis shoe.

"_Jasper_," Henry breathed in astonishment, sure that the stupid freak was lying in the midst of the remains of the orphanage in the forest, dead and barbequed. Maybe with one of those demon dogs feasting upon him. But no, here he was, in the burnt, decaying flesh, and he waved.

"H-H-Hey, H-Henry."

"Shut up. How the hell are you still alive?" The question escaped his lips before he could fully think it over, and Henry noticed that Jasper _wasn't_ alive. He was dead, like the beanie ghost and the one in the apartment. Hell, he was hovering like them. The brunet grinned sickly and chortled.

"No, wait, you _are_ dead!" he exclaimed. "Yeah, you're a ghost like those other idiots! I don't see the point, though—you were better off dead, for all the good you could do."

If Jasper was offended by this snide comment, he didn't show it. Instead, he lolled his head back and thought about something. Then: "Uh, I'm, uh, not s-s-supposed to… l-let you h-h-h-have this, um, this key." As he said this he fished around in his jean pocket and brought out a small, shiny key.

"Uh, okay…" Henry then noticed that there was a tag attached to the key. "What's that say? Can you read it? And don't stutter."

"S-S-Sure." Jasper drew a deep breath and read out, "Irene… Irene's r-room, k-key… lol."

'Irene's room?' Henry looked about himself and then saw it behind him a little ways. A door he hadn't explored yet with a sign on it. **IRENE'S ROOM(LOCKED)**. Henry shrugged and turned back to Jasper, eyes narrowed. "_Hey_."

"…Y-Yeah?"

"Good job."

Henry fired the revolver and the hand holding the key was blown off to the far corner of the hallway. Jasper screamed in agony, clutching his stub-of-an-arm to his chest. Henry, meanwhile, strolled past and wrenched the key out of the charred appendage. Grinning, he walked back, flashed Jasper a grand smile, and unlocked the door before disappearing through it. Jasper just went on howling.

The lights in the patient room were dim, and it took some moments for Henry's eyes to adjust at first. Gradually, though, he saw the room was void of any of the rust and grime that seemed to dot the rest of the hospital. There was a small stand in the corner and before it a perfectly clean bunk, save for the despicable entity that lay in it. Henry drew a breath, thumbed down the revolver, and set the muzzle of the gun on Irene's forehead. A bead of sweat slid down his brow.

But, for some reason, he couldn't pull the trigger. It's not like he hadn't killed a person before(one time, in his college days, when Henry had been so incredulously high with Francisco, he _did_ shoot a guy… by accident, of course), but there was something about this that just didn't feel right. Was it his conscience trying to stop him? Or perhaps it was just that killing Irene like this—without being able to see the dread in her eyes, or hear her scream—just killed it. Excuse the pun.

Henry brought his gun back, hesitant to do anything else when Irene started to murmur. "…No, Mommy… Billy's going to get me again… Pie… _Pie_… _I WANT SOME PIE_!" She sat up in a frenzy, screaming for pie and other things, and slapped Henry right across the face. He lost his footing and collapsed onto his rear end while she tore the sheets covering her to shreds and continued to holler.

Henry winced, got up, and backhanded Irene _hard_. "Shut the hell UP!" he yelled, and her head bounced on the pillow and back up. He caught her by the shoulders and shook her violently. "Irene, wake up, you good-for-nothing bimbo!"

Her screams and hollers degenerated into mindless giggles and hiccups as he shook her, and he let her go. She laughed and snorted and Henry was preparing to strike her again, harder this time, when she actually began to create intelligible words. "…Hey… Henry, why are _you_ in my dream… l-o-l…" She burst into giggles once more and Henry sighed tiredly.

"Don't pull a Cynthia on me, you damned bimbo. You're awake!" She laughed again, and _gods_, it was so _irritating_!

"Henry… who's Cynthia…?" she asked in-between her giggling.

Henry cringed at the thought of recalling ye olde weed biotch. He shrugged halfheartedly. "Uh, she's just a part of me I can't let go. Let's… leave it at that."

"…Okey-dokey…" Irene finally settled down and swung her legs over the side of the bunk. She yawned loudly, attempted to rub her eyes, and suddenly noticed that her right arm was bandaged and contained within a cast. She also noticed that her right eye was covered by a white patch. "…Why do I have all this stuff on me, Henry…? Where am I…? Did you bring my tampon…?"

The brunet sighed. "Are you saying you don't remember _anything_? Nothing at all?"

"Well…" Irene smiled stupidly and tapped her chin with her good hand. "I sort of remember that weird little boy… and the weirder blond guy in the coat…" She laughed again and Henry frowned.

"Yeah, okay, good, I guess." Henry folded his arms and began pacing around the small room. "Anything else? Did he say anything to you, the man in the coat?"

"Uh, yeah." She looked blankly at Henry before giggling. "He asked me if he could use my bathroom, and I said, 'yeah,' but then he started talking to the sock he had on his hand and then he whacked me with my lamp." She frowned. "It hurt."

"No shit," Henry remarked. "And you're bimbo of the year. Oh yeah, you are. Never mind." He leaned against wall with his arms crossed over his chest. "And now you're here. Stupid…" Henry proceeded to mutter to himself randomly while Irene blew out ridiculous, childish noises from between her lips.

"Hey, Henry," she said while goggling at him, "what are you doing here, anyway? Did you come to bring my tampon back…?"

"Of course I did," Henry replied sarcastically. "Yeah, I came all this way just to give you a tampon back, which, by the way, _I don't even have_! No, I hardly have any other choice! I'm freakin' locked up in my apartment, and the only way to get out is to go into this hole, and where do I end up? In this stupid place, where no one has half a damn mind to get me my alcohol! I tried to be nice to be some of those idiots, and what happens? They get killed by some freak-o with a sock!"

Henry let his short rant hang in the air, and then Irene snorted and laughed. "You're funny, Henry!" He gritted his teeth and fumed.

"Oh, whatever!" He turned and went for the door. "I'm leaving. You're obviously not going to help." Irene whimpered.

"But, Henry…!" Nevertheless, he walked out into the hall and was immediately greeted by a whistle.

"Aha, there you are!" Henry looked to his right and saw Walter and Jasper standing at the front of a troop of odd, mutilated, humanoid beings. Walter jabbed Mr. Sock in his direction while Jasper watched on in horror, cradling his blasted arm to his chest. "Dude, it's over!" Walter said. "Could you just stop trying to be such a douche? You didn't have to shoot his hand off!"

Henry smirked and laughed. "Oh yeah, sure, you and Mr. Sock are telling me what to do now? Or should I say, Mr. _Cock_, since you seem to be sucking it all the time!" Upon hearing this rather crude retort Walter was speechless, his face gradually scrunching up in offense.

"T-That was, w-was un, uncalled f-f-for," Jasper said quietly, and Henry shrugged.

"I have the right," he said. "I'm the one constantly trying to be killed here!"

"Henry! Henry!" Irene came waddling out of her room, looking around with that stupefied awe of hers. "Henry, who are these people…? Have you found my tampon yet…?"

"Go back in your room, Irene!" Henry exclaimed loudly. Irene whimpered and began to cry, lightly at first, then rather heavily. Walter was silently shedding some tears as well.

"W-W-What's, what's your p-problem, m-m-man?" Jasper questioned, gesturing at the two.

"Shut up!" Henry cried out at him, and in the ensuing pandemonium the once idle creatures standing at attention behind Walter began to exchange glances.

And then…

"ENOUGH!" Everything silenced at once, and it was queerly obvious that Mr. Sock had taken the reigns. The innocent little glimmer that had once been present in Walter's eyes was now gone, replaced by a dark emptiness that forced even Henry to look away. His upper lip curled in a terrible sneer. "Kill them," he commanded to the monsters with a wave of the sock. "Kill them and leave not a single fiber on their bodies unscathed!"

He drew back, as did Jasper, and the legion of monsters advanced. Henry backed away and held up his bat defensively. Irene just sucked her thumb. "Henry… what's going on…? Do _they_ have my tampon…?"

"No, they don't have your tampon, you bimbo!" Henry told her, and the nearest monster lunged at him, revealing its gaping hole of a mouth in a garbled cry. Henry leaned back, avoided the swipe, and then slammed his bat into the creature's gut. Its back arced and he raised his weapon and delivered a blow to the spine. There was a sickening crack before the monster gave out and crumpled to the floor.

Henry grinned and looked to his adversaries across from him. "Is that all you've got?" Mr. Sock smiled himself and then waved his sock again. The rest of the monsters proceeded to attack Henry head-on. He chuckled and ran to meet them, bashing two to in the head almost immediately and downing them. He ducked and rammed another one, knocking it into a group of monsters. A creature behind Henry swung its club haphazardly, missed the brunet, hit a comrade, and then had its brains blown out via Richard's revolver.

Meanwhile, the beanie ghost phased in through the wall and glanced at the carnage. A rather cumbersome bag of what could only be narcotics was hugged to his chest, and an "Oh shit," escaped his mouth before he left through the opposite wall.

Henry hopped over a low strike and sent a monster to its knees. He grabbed its bulk of a head and threw it forward, toppling over a couple more enemies. He turned back and then placed a bullet right in-between the next monster's eyebrows. In essence, he was making short work of them.

Walter whined. "Mr. Sock, he hasn't even gotten hit yet! What do we do?" Mr. Sock rolled his eyes. "We retreat, of course. Now is not the time to engage him further."

Henry defeated the last of the monsters with a stomp to its crotch. Jasper and Walter both cringed and Irene laughed dumbly. "Okay," Henry said. "I think it's time we finished this…" He raised the revolver and Walter cried out nervously.

"Uh, we'll get you next time!" he yelled, and reached into his coat with his free hand. "_Smoke grenade_!" He threw down something that Henry couldn't make out, and it exploded into hundreds of tendrils and billows of smoke. He shielded his eyes and then heard ragged coughing coming from their direction.

"Ah, it didn't work!" Walter remarked disappointedly. He had said this while covering his mouth with Mr. Sock, and he was suddenly slapped with it. "Oh no, I'm sorry, Mr. Sock!" Jasper meanwhile stared on in shock as he combusted.

"Oh g-g-great, I'm on f-fire again!" They both cursed and Walter jabbed a finger in Henry's way.

"This isn't the end, dude! We'll get you next time! For now, it's time to beat a retreat!" They whipped around and stormed down the hallway, but before they could get to the stairs the elevator at the end of the hall landed and opened up its doors. From out of it walked two people. One appeared nearly identical to Henry, aside from having stubble and being noticeably better-looking. The other appeared nearly identical to Irene, aside from wearing a violet, open-back dress and having the eye patch on the other eye.

"Oh no!" Walter exclaimed. "_Alternates_!" He and Jasper rushed past and leaped through the door leading to the stairs, earning bewildered looks from the newcomers.

Henry gritted his teeth and pointed rudely at them. "It's you! _Townshend_!"

The other Henry regarded him strangely and then waved. "Oh yeah, I remember you." The girl at his side looked up at him curiously.

"You know these people, Henry?"

"Oh, well not exactly. I met that guy earlier here. But I don't know that other one."

Upon being acknowledged, Irene tittered. "_You guys look like us_!" Henry groaned and slapped his forehead in embarrassment.

"Irene…" he said, "just shut up."

The other two approached them, and Henry saw that they were heavily armed. Townshend was wielding a rusted, bloodied axe—freely with one hand, by the way—and he was crammed to the limit with pistol and revolver ammunition, with both of the respective weapons tucked away in the back of his pants. An odd-looking medallion was around his neck, and Henry immediately recognized the Chibi inscriptions on it. He seethed.

Townshend's lady friend, while not armed to the teeth, was still toting a rather impressive sub-machine gun, and had Henry been thinking straight he might not have approached them with such rabid ferocity.

"Where did the hell did you get that little necklace?" he asked, and Townshend briefly glanced down at it.

"From the tower, I think," he replied, and Henry wasn't even sure what that meant.

"But don't you see? _It's Japanese_! It has some gay little Anime character on it!" Townshend looked down at it and seemed to consider, but he didn't see a gay little Anime character on it. All he saw was a relief of a young woman cradling a child. In fact, it didn't even resemble a "gay little Anime character". Townshend actually found Anime interesting, although he wasn't a fan of it.

"Henry," his lady friend whispered. "These guys are loony; we should go now."

"Hold on, Eileen," he responded. He turned back to Henry. "I don't really see anything Japanese on it, too be exact."

"_Don't tell me lies_!" Henry screamed, resulting in Townshend and the one he referred to as "Eileen" move back away in astonishment. "You're in cahoots with Walter and Jasper, _aren't you_?"

Townshend's face darkened. "Walter and Jasper? I don't know what you're talking about. That doesn't make any sense."

"Oh yes it does!" Henry continued, but before he could go on the upper portion of the wall behind them imploded and Irene Head drifted out to meet them, smiling happily and making a cute, happy, little Chibi face upon seeing Henry.

"What the hell?" Townshend queried while brandishing his axe. "It's that Eileen head!"

"Not Eileen Head…" Henry said quietly, his rage forgotten for the moment. "_Irene Head_!" He bolted past them and Irene, giggling stupidly like always, chased after him with her a limp. The other couple, however, stood their ground.

"On my go!" Townshend shouted, and with fluid movement launched the axe right out of his hand and straight at Irene Head. It curved cleanly in the air and struck Irene Head right in the left eye, spraying forth a large amount of gore. The head screamed very humanly and Townshend nodded quickly and ducked. Eileen removed the safety from the weapon and fired, shooting out a grand stream of bullets that slashed open Irene Head's face.

Henry stared back at them with a look of stupefied awe that would have given Irene a run for her money. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed, and then they were gone, running down the stairs and screaming like little schoolgirls(technically it was only Henry, though).

They burst out into the main hub and Henry headed for the washing room, with Irene tailing behind as fast as she could. Once inside, he stopped in front of the hole and slumped down against the wall, scared to his wits. "God, they were like Francisco when he got pissed…" he thought aloud, and then Irene came in. "Damn it, what do _you_ want?"

"Uh, I don't know," she replied truthfully. Henry shook his head and sighed.

"Whatever. I don't know about you, Irene, but I'm getting the hell out of here." He headed for the hole, but just as he was climbing in he saw her coming forward and entering as well. "NO!"

**FUWHOOSH… Intermission!**

**(Ding) Now back to your program.**

Henry awoke back in his bed, although this time he was naked and under the sheets, and he felt extremely groggy. "Freak…" He gradually came to realize where he was, and he blinked. "Wait a minute… I'm back. Was it… Was it all just a dream?"

"I don't think so, Henry…" He turned on his side and saw Irene, Walter, a dead Jasper, Cynthia, Andrew, Richard, Frank, Mr. Sock, Henry Townshend, and finally Eileen, all naked and in his bed. He screamed.

---

Henry flew up like a bullet in his bed, swathed in sweat and justifiably frightened. "Ah… Thank God… _that_ was just a dream!" He took a breather and then nodded. 'At least Irene can't come this way(:3). Who knows what I would've done if she was in my bed…' Henry looked back at his sheets, considered, then shrugged and stood up. He was just about to open the door to the hallway when he heard something crash in the living room. "Oh chit."

He jogged there and saw that his ceiling fan had apparently fallen from its place and scraped up his coffee table. Henry kicked at it. 'Shouldn't have left it on High for so long… Frank's really going to own my ass now…' Underneath the door was a red note and an envelope, and Henry decided he didn't have anything better to do.

**When I came back from the hole today I found a Happy Burger Kid's Meal in the fridge! Someone was sure nice enough to come and bring me food. I wonder if it was Willy…**

**I've been doing some thinking on Walter what's-his-name, and I think he really DID kill himself in the prison. I think he did some weird voodoo stuff then and somehow came back, like a zombie or some crazy shit like that. Well, zombies are cool. BUT, I think he started up his little murders again. I don't know why he's killing people; though I think he's just a little too high. I mean, they found another body—1321—yesterday! He's got to still be out there.**

**Anyway, I'm-a gonna go and eat my delectable Double-Meat-Bacon-Onion-Super-Deluxe-Strawberry-Chocolate-Cheese burger!—Joe S.**

Henry felt his stomach rumble and his mouth water at the mention of such a godly piece of food, but he fought it back and bent down for the envelope. He tore it open and dipped the contained piece of paper into the palm of his hand.

**m0M, r u StIl ther here use this k3y i711 h31p G3T U 0UT!**

Inside the envelope was also a small key, and yes, you guess it, lol. Henry peered at it quizzically and threw both the envelope and the note in the trash. "Freakin' kid," he said. "He still thinks I'm his mom or something."

Left out of options, Henry returned to the hole, but not before remembering to put the video cassette in his stereo for later listening.

**FWOO… Intermission!**

**(Ding) Now back to your program.**

Irene was busy pondering the mysteries of perpetual reincarnation and life eternal when Henry fell out of the hole, still holding onto the key. "You're back, Henry!" she chirped, but he brushed her off with a wave of the hand. He got to his feet and dropped the key in his pocket.

"…Hey, Irene," he said absentmindedly, "do you know a guy named Joe S.?"

"Joe S.?" She twirled around a strand of hair and then nodded after what seemed like forever. "…Yeah. He was the guy who lived in your room before you… I think. He was kind of creepy."

Henry was momentarily stunned by Irene's somewhat intellectual response. Then he went on. "Okay, well, I've been getting these letters from him supposedly. I think he's investigating Walter. Do you happen to know anything?"

Irene was totally blank, and Henry sighed. "Whatever. I'm going to try and find a way out of here." He started to the door, but she grabbed his arm.

"But Henry, it's, like… _dangerous_ here! Can I come with you? Please? _Pretty-please_?"

"_You_? Come with _me_?" The idea was inane, but Henry knew there were some pluses to it. Irene was godly stupid, but she _was_ hot, even if she had just been subjected to battery and looked like a train ran her over. And, of course, she could always serve as a distraction. He shrugged.

"Oh, what the hell! Fine, you can come along if you want, but this isn't a pleasure cruise. I'm going to kill that Walter guy. And Jasper, too, even if he _is_ already dead."

Irene only nodded with her tongue sticking out.

Henry opted to try the elevator since Townshend and his companion, Eileen, had seemingly managed it to work, and Irene had no objections. Not that she ever would, of course.

The elevator did in fact operate, and it did so very well. When they reached the second floor hallway, Henry wasted no time in heading for the opposite end. The other two were gone, and so was Irene Head for some reason, but the carcasses of Walter's monsters still littered the floor. Henry made sure to step on each of their groins, and Irene did so too for fun.

There was a gate at the end of the hall, and attached to it was a padlock. Beyond it Henry saw another door surrounded by more of those godforsaken Chibi symbols. He grimaced and tried the key with the padlock—not surprisingly, the padlock released, and Henry and Irene left the hall behind and traveled through the door.

On the other side the floor dropped into three flights of stairs, and along the way were the corpses of monsters similar to the ones Walter and Mr. Sock had attacked Henry with. They had all apparently died from deep gashes and bullet wounds, and Henry smirked darkly. 'They came this way too. Good. I'll take care of them. They're both otaku too, I know it.'

Henry and Irene advanced down the stairs quickly, at least Henry did, and a door greeted them at the very bottom. In its center was a giant Chibi face. Beside it on the wall was written in purple ink, **WELCOME TO THE NEXT LEVEL! **

"Awesome," Henry said, and he turned to Irene. "Let's go kick some ass."

"Hotdog?"

"No, ass."

"Oh, okay."

Henry raised Richard's revolver and turned the knob…

**To be continued…**


	7. Reminisces

**Silent Hill 4: The Not-So Parody-(Reminisces)**

On their way down to the lower floors of the hospital, Walter took a small detour to fill up a tin bucket with water. He hurried from the storage room in the main "hub" and poured the water all over his flaming companion, who was jittering around in the air.

The fire sizzled out at once, and Jasper breathed a sigh of relief. "T-T-Thanks, man."

"No problem," Walter said with a friendly grin. "Although I think we'll be better off if I take this with us." He then proceeded to try and stuff the bucket into his coat, but was unsuccessful. Then he tried to run his arm through the bucket's carrying ring, but was also unsuccessful. At last, Walter just decided to put the bucket atop his head.

"Say hello to Mr. Bucket!" Walter said cheerfully, and Jasper laughed along just as stupidly as Irene had earlier.

"Hello, Mr. Bucket!" he greeted.

"…Hey…" Mr. Bucket responded gloomy. "Ah, cheer up!" Walter said. "Enough of this foolishness," Mr. Sock interjected. "We go on." Walter pouted. "Fine… Come on Jasper."

"Where are, where are we g-g-going?"

"Oh, you'll see," the blond replied with a smile, and he led Jasper through a hidden corridor and down a rather rusted stairway. It ended right in front of a golden elevator that had red Chibi drawings spotted all over it. "You see," Walter started, "Henry and Irene and the rest of them have to use the stairs, but I have special access to this elevator here."

"W-W-W-What's the, the difference?"

Walter glanced at him incredulously. "Are you really serious? Uh, well, the stairs are super-duper long! It'll take forever. So we'll just use this, um, elevator. It's real luxurious-like, though! And there's some chilled punch, too!"

"Ooh, I l-like p-punch, but I like ch-chocolate m-milk more."

"There's some chocolate milk in there, too."

"_Sweet_!"

Walter nodded excitedly and produced a small plastic card from his coat sleeve, and printed on it in bolded letters was **V.I.B.**. "W-W-What's t-that mean?" Jasper asked, and Walter grinned again.

"Very Important Biotch, Jasper old pal." He slid the card into a slot beside the elevator doors and then thumbed the "DOWN" button. There was a click, a hum, and then the doors opened to reveal a wide, luxurious, completely white suite. The rug, walls, and even the two leather sofas and lone easy chair were white. Jasper was forced to squint at the overall lightness, but Walter, who was still carrying the bucket over his head, entered and took a seat on the easternmost sofa. He set the bucket down beside him, blinked, and beckoned Jasper inside.

"Come on in, dude. Here, have some chocolate milk." Walter stretched over the side of the sofa and opened up a small refrigerator that was next to the lounge, and from it he withdrew a bottle of thick, frosty chocolate milk and a can of diet cola. He passed the milk to Jasper, who failed to catch it. As he scooped it up and sat on the sofa opposite Walter's, the elevator door clicked to a close and the suite steadily began to move. From somewhere unnoticeable, there was a melodic jingling, followed by a professional, soothing female voice.

"Welcome, gentlemen, I hope you enjoy your ride. Would you care for some music?"

"Music, Jasp?"

The charred ghost shook his head, and Walter told the disembodied voice, "Nah, we're fine. Thank you very much, though."

"Very well, then. Please enjoy your ride." There was another jingle, and then whatever source the voice had been coming from went off. Walter sandwiched the can of cola between his thighs, careful not to touch it with Mr. Sock, and then popped off the metal pin with minimal difficulty with his other hand. He took a sip of it and made a rueful expression.

"Bitter, this stuff is."

"Then why, why do you, why do you drink it?"

Walter lolled his head in thought. "Don't know. Never really thought about it, to tell you the truth." In actuality, it was not that Walter liked the taste of the diet cola, but it was Mr. Sock who _did_. Of course, Walter had no idea of this, but then Jasper asked another question.

"So, uh, why are you, why are you trying to k-k-kill those g-guys, anyway? And m-me too?"

"Kill them?" Walter laid his head back in thought, focusing more on the hum of the elevator's gradual descent than any actual train of thought. He shrugged at last. "You know, I think I forgot."

Jasper gaped at this, and Walter frowned. "Don't look at me like that, dude! It's been, like, forever since I actually thought about it. Plus, I was dead for, like, a couple of years, give or take. Well, maybe I wasn't, but it sounds cooler that way." Walter glanced at the sock on his hand and then said, "Hey, Mr. Sock, do you remember why we're killing all these poor dudes and dudettes?" Walter leaned in close to the sock and answered in a much more sinister tone, "Of course."

Walter: "And why do they have to be sacrificed, again?"

Mr. Sock: "To free… your mother."

Walter: "And, um, why are we trying to free my mother?"

Mr. Sock: "You feel she has been tainted by this world."

Walter: "Oh, okay."

He looked to Jasper. "See, Mr. Sock knows everything!"

Jasper drank down some of the chocolate milk and wiped the froth from his upper lip. "B-But what's, what's the s-s-s-story, the story behind it?"

"The story behind it?" Walter furrowed his brow in concentration, and then elated with a smile. "Hey, I remember that part! Well, we have some time to spare so I guess I can tell you!"

"C-Cool, but, uh, Walt?"

"Yep?"

"I h-h-have to t-take a leak."

"Oh." Walter pointed beyond Jasper's sofa. "The toilet's that way, man. Have a good one."

"T-T-Thanks." Jasper hovered out of the chair and headed for the restroom, but he suddenly combusted. "_Ah, ding-dang it_!" he cursed. Walter's eyes bulged in horror, and, thinking quickly, he dumped the rest of his cola over Jasper, succeeding only in fueling the fire more.

"Oh, shit."

Finally, after using several of the bottled waters that were located in the fridge, Walter managed to snuff out Jasper's fire, allowing the guy to pass his water. When he returned, Walter had "Mr. Bucket" over his head again and was making peculiar _choo-choo_ noises. Jasper presumed he thought himself to be a train. "W-Walt?"

"Huh?" The blond murderer stopped and, after realizing what he was doing, ripped the bucket off and put it back in its spot, even going so far as to push it away for extra measure.

"Okay, so where were we?"

"Y-Y-You… you were g-going to tell me how, it, uh, started."

"Oh yeah!" Walter took a breath, slapped his cheeks, and popped open a new can of diet cola. After taking a nice, long gulp he smacked his lips. "Alright, so where to begin… well, I'll just start it from when I ended up at the orphanage…"

_Walter so-and-so, for his name has been long forgotten on the winds of time, has led a rather odd life thus far. He was born in Room 203 of North Ashfield Heights, an apartment complex in the not-so-medium sized city of Ashfield. His parents—both of them hippies, do it please ya—were enjoying the dying age of the 60's one day and that was how it started. With a bongo in one had and another bongo in the other._

"Yeah, I was born in 1970," Walter told Jasper. "…At least I think. That's what they told me when I left the first orphanage."

_In the beginning, he was taken to one orphanage and then another, at least for the initial three years of his life. At age four, Walter was taken in by a very cheery, clear-cut couple named the Masons. They called him Oswald._

"I seriously didn't like the name; it was super-duper awesomely _gay_."

_And while the Masons provided much for the little, four-year-old boy, they soon began to notice his bloodshot eyes, his desire to breath in exhaust fumes, and how he had a tendency to eat many strawberries. They knew something was wrong with the boy, and their fear was justifiable; little Walter was addicted to every drug that existed. Okay, maybe not all of them, but a LOT of them, nonetheless. And so, little Walter was sent back to the orphanage, and when he turned five, they took the now-nameless-boy-again to Happy House, or otherwise called the Silent Hill-Smiley-Orphanage-That-Helps-Mold-Children-All-Over-The-World, an orphanage near the resort town of Silent Hill, but I think you already knew that._

"That's where the story really begins, I think…" Walter said absentmindedly, but Jasper said nothing.

_Believe it or not, the orphanage was really a narcotics plant, namely for Marijuana. The children, for five straight hours a day, were forced to work in the fields behind the complex and in the nearby forest to sow and grow the drug plant. The officials of the Happy House, who were also members of the Happy Japanese Club Yes-Yes, sold these drugs and also used them, and the children were also subjected to the drugs. For Walter, an addict already at the age of five, this was like heaven. Of course, he didn't realize it then at such a young age._

_When the children weren't working, eating, sleeping, playing, or getting high, they were schooled in Happy Japanese Club Yes-Yes!'s ways and teachings. They were taught advanced educational concepts at young ages, and they were forced to become adept illustrators of Japanese animation. For Walter, who had great talent for drawing, this was heaven as well._

_And so, life at Happy House was tremendously good for Walter. He excelled as a student and a junkie, and soon grew to be one of the most talked-about orphans. When the other sections of the Happy Japanese Club Yes-Yes! came to visit the orphanage's progress each month, Walter was the highlight. He was even allowed to watch the rituals and sacrifices that occurred every few months or so. However, Walter, as he would inevitably tell you, does not remember this. It is a blank in his memory, aside from some key subjects. But this story will go on, and while Walter does not remember the following and will skip over it and tell Jasper the current events to speed things up, I will tell you this from the memory of the other entity that exists in the back of Walter's mind, because he remembers everything, and clearly, might I add._

_Walter, or perhaps not Walter, was schooled by Father James "Jimmy-San" Stone, the head priest of the Red Rice Cake arc of the Happy Japanese Club Yes-Yes! and his right-hand man, Toby Archbolt. He was to be the "Conjurer", the one who would bring about the coming of the "Happy Place", a utopia where everyone was Chibi and ran down rainbow and ate sushi all day. To accomplish this, Walter would perform the ritual of the "Twenty-One Kanji", which would empower a sock so that it could be used to reshape the world…_

_To have Walter do this, or perhaps not Walter, they convinced Walter, or perhaps not Walter, that he would be able to be with his mother once it was over, for Walter, or perhaps not Walter, desired to be with his mother very much so. Walter, or, you guessed it, perhaps not Walter, would have to sacrifice twenty-one souls so that a sock of his choosing would be ready for Happy Place._

_Again, though, Walter does not recall this. He instead recalls everything else about his stay at Happy House._

"I had a couple of friends," he said while drinking some more soda. "Yup, they were pretty freaky-deeky, though. All the other kids called us the "Stoners"."

"Who… Who w-were they?"

"It was me, Mr. Sock, Alessa, Bob, and Clau—I'm-really-stupid—dia."

"They, uh, ac-actually c-c-c-called her t-that?"

"Huh? Claudia? Dude, they called her a lot worse things than _that_, let me tell you! Although I will tell you she was, like, in love with Alessa, and I mean, like, you know, lesbodinky-dink, or whatever they call it."

"I g-g-get you, but who, who's Alessa?"

"Uh, Alessa was, like the best Anime drawer out of all of us. I mean, you'd give her a piece of paper, and she'd doodle the Chibi _Mona Lisa _in like, two seconds!" He sipped his cola. "But, she was, like, super hot, dude! Of course, she was a little older than the rest of us, but that was okay, since she liked me the most anyway."

"You t-two l-l-liked each other?"

"Yup, at least I think so… wait, don't be so loud! Claudia is, like, _everywhere_…" Walter's eyes literally shrunk in their sockets in fear and he hugged his legs to his chest, cowering on the sofa. The invisible intercom came back to life with its unmistakable jingle.

"Hello, gentlemen, we are now entering stage two of three of the ride. Would you like the transport to undergo view mode?"

"Sure!" Walter answered. "Go ahead!" He giggled and waved Mr. Sock at Jasper. "Dude, you're so going to love this! Watch!" There was a _DING_, and then the walls, floor, and ceiling of the suite vanished into nothingness, revealing a view of what was actually surrounding the elevator at the moment. Their transport wasn't traveling at the speed of light, most definitely not, but at a leisurely pace that allowed them to take in the sights, which were rather surreal.

The elevator was moving downward through a column which the staircase Walter mentioned earlier spiraled. The staircase itself appeared just like Jasper had imagined it to look like: nothing fancy or gruesome. On the other hand, the backdrop of which the staircase was set was a sight to behold. They were in the air, and the sun was currently setting, or mayhap it was nothing but some amazing illusion. Below them the staircase extended so long that its end was not even visible, although it ended at a gray, obstructed plain, at least that what's it appeared like to him.

Walter finished his current can and snapped his fingers. A small slot in the wall slid up, letting him deposit the empty can. They watched it fall into orange oblivion. The blond belched, yawned, and then screwed his eyes up with his free left hand. "Okey-doke, now, where was I…? Oh yeah, I was going to start telling you about the time when we stole Vincent's graham crackers, and then he squealed on us, but Bob…"—he wiped away some tears—"he sacrificed himself for us, and I'll always love him for it. Here, let me tell you, 'cause everything changed after that night…"

**BREAK TIME!**

_It was a dark, chilly night at Happy House. Children were preparing for sleep; others were playing or occupying themselves with reading or drawing. The adults were busy playing poker, and since this was Poker Night Tuesday at Happy House, representatives from all three arcs of the Happy Japanese Club Yes-Yes! had come. Dahlia Gillespie, leader of the Green Tea arc, and Leonard Wolf, her second-in-command, had also brought along their respective daughters, which they did every week. And every Monday and Friday as well._

_Speaking of their daughters, the two of them were sitting around a small, lit wicker candle in the center of a broom closet. They are in the company of two other boys, both of whom are eleven years old. Alessa Gillespie is thirteen, the oldest, and Claudia—ZOMG—Wolf is twelve._

_The two boys are Walter and Bob, and they have no surnames. And if they did, I wouldn't tell you anyway. Walter is wearing a long-sleeved, striped, blue-and-white shirt and has his elbows propped up on the knees of his jeans. In his hand is a cigarette, and it is not at all being used. Instead, Walter is busy eating another one of his strawberries, because they are oh-so-awesomely-good. Bob is wearing all black under his black jacket, and he too has a cigarette. His nails are painted black, his lips are painted black, and he is wearing black mascara. The front of his hair is dyed gold, and it hangs over the left side of his face. He is the definition of an emo kid_

_Therefore, you may not have expected to see a dingy, old sock covering his left hand. Two black beads were sewn into the sock to serve as makeshift eyes, and he is leaning back on this hand while smoking his cigarette with the other._

_Alessa and Claudia are not so extravagantly or plainly dressed, for they are wearing their school uniforms, with their low skirts, knee-high socks, and ties. Alessa's hair is tied up in a small ponytail, and she is smoking a cigarette as well, taking drags from it every now-and-then. Claudia is not smoking, for she is working intensely on a drawing using her crayon stubs, and she is making this picture ESPECIALLY for Alessa, and no-one else. And that is why it is ironic that Walter will later take it into his possession, as well as items that also belong to Alessa herself and Bob._

_It is now that Alessa speaks, for she is leader of their little club-of-sorts, and she will always remain that way for Walter. She begins with, "So, are we all in agreement over stealing Vincent's graham crackers?" Their plan tonight is to steal the snobby Vincent's precious graham crackers, for he is such a jerk-off to them that it is not funny. All because they are the "Stoners", and they have indeed begun to use the name officially._

_"Yeah, okay," Walter responds absentmindedly, much more concerned with biting off the small bits of strawberry that are desperately clinging to the miniature leaves of the fruit._

_Alessa drags for a moment and then shrugs. "Alright, that's one. Bob?"_

_Before Bob can say a word, though, Claudia bursts into giggles and turns her parchment over, allowing them a look at her illustration, which is really just two crudely-done stick figures holding hands with "ALESSA" written besides one and "CLAUDIA" written besides the other. You might find it interesting how Claudia cannot draw, considering one of the key abilities that are emphasized at Happy House is drawing. It is sadly just the fact that Claudia cannot draw, and never will be able to, even by the time of her oh-so-unorthodox death years later, but that my friends, is another story entirely, and I'm afraid Walter won't be addressing it at all. In fact, he has no idea Claudia is currently dead._

_She smiles eagerly at her adored friend, who only drags and smiles with such effort that it is painfully obvious she is trying a tad too hard. But Claudia does not realize this—CANNOT realize this—and is only ecstatic when Alessa pats her on the head and tells her it is beautiful, that it is the most amazing thing she has ever seen and that oh—is it really for ME?_

_"I'll draw you another one, Alessa!" Claudia states happily, and she reaches into the stack of aged parchment behind her to begin anew. Meanwhile, Alessa waits impatiently for Bob's reply, and after an oblong drag on his part groans, "We're not going to get caught, so yes or not?"_

_Walter neglects to inform Jasper during this part of the story that Alessa is physic, and can easily use her deadly powers to read Bob's mind, and could very easily castrate him, and this why most people should think only happy thoughts around Alessa, and ONLY happy thoughts._

_Bob, after another drag finally replies, "…I don't we should do it, really."_

_"Why the hell not? Bob, I'm telling you it'll be fine. That fat-ass DeSalvo knows better than to screw with me."_

_"…I know that," Bob said gloomily, "but I mean… what did Vincent ever do to us…?"_

_Alessa draws in a deep breath in aggravation. "Stop being a little pussy, Bob, okay?"_

_"Yeah!" Claudia interjects. "Be a big penis!"_

_"Yes."_

_Bob is still unsure, and Alessa scowls. "Don't forget, Bob, the only reason I even let you be a member of this club is because you're Walter's friend, and I quite like your hair. So if you really want to still be a member of the "Stoners"…" She lets it hang for added emphasis, and Bob glances at Walter for support._

_The blond shrugs and says, "No biggie, man. We'll be fine."_

_And so, Bob reluctantly agrees to go along with the mission, if only to remain on Alessa's good side, but he tries rigorously not to let this thought go detected by her mental abilities. Next, Alessa asks Claudia, who immediately complies. Anything to please her princess, oh yes._

_"Alright, well, now that we're all in agreement," Alessa says, "does anyone besides me have a plan they would like to propose?" Bob takes a nervous glance at Walter and then Claudia, and slowly raises a hand. "Yes, Bob?" Alessa asks him with mock sincerity. "What do you have in mind?"_

_"…Oh, well…" Bob pursed his lips and then let out some air, "I think we should have two of us keeping watch and two of us actually going in to get the crackers. And I think Claudia should be one of the watchers."_

_Claudia didn't comment, just kept working on her next masterpiece to present to Alessa, who nodded. "I agree. Claudia can't handle herself under pressure. Not that she can ever handle herself, actually."_

_Claudia still did not bother to comment. She is most likely not even listening._

_"Okay, then," Alessa said while snuffing her cigarette out on the picture Claudia had give her just minutes before. The younger girl does not notice this either, but she will later and wail and ask Alessa what happened, and, of course, like every other response, "Vincent did it."_

_Nevertheless, the "Stoners" rise and Alessa puts out the candle with a nip of her fingertips. She winces, and something aches a little, deep within her, but Walter does not know of this, perhaps not Walter doesn't even know of this, so he does not relay it to Jasper like I am relaying it to you now. It is irrelevant to this story, though, so we go on._

_They leave, and Bob pulls Walter back quickly as the girls go on ahead. His face is urgent, Walter remembers, and that is how he remembers Bob the best. The other boy removes the sock and hands it to Walter. "Walter, buddy, um… if anything happens to me when we go to get those crackers from Vincent… I want you to take Mr. Sock."_

_Walter is bewildered at first, and he chuckles quietly. "Don't be silly, Bob. Nothing's going to happen to you man, and besides… I couldn't take Mr. Sock."_

_"Just do it, dude. I've got a bad feeling about this night, anyway… I mean, screw Alessa, screw Claudia, screw them all… We should just get out of here, what do you say?"_

_"But Bob, dude… I _like_ it here. This place is cool."_

_Bob shakes his head. "Maybe for you, but it's just not for me. You're good at drawing, and you're good at getting high… but it's just not for me, you get what I'm saying? We're never going to get out of here, you know, and we can't stay here forever. I don't want to become a stupid little lackey of theirs. I want to find my own destiny, and it's not here. For me, nothing is here. You don't have to come, but I'm going to run after we get those crackers. And, if they happen to get me, at least Mr. Sock will be safe with you."_

_"Bob…" Walter looks down at the sock in his hand and shakes his head, but Bob only grins at him before following after Alessa and Claudia. Walter chokes and skips over some parts while telling Jasper, but I'm going to take you all the way._

_Vincent stays at Happy House, but he will later become a member of the Green Tea arc of the Happy Japanese Club Yes-Yes!. He is stuck-up, he is rude, and he is very self-centered. He has no friends, and the one he used to have was sent to the Happy Tower. He was never seen again._

_Vincent shares a small dormitory with another child, Johnny. Johnny is extremely obese, and he lacks the ability to read. His bunk is covered with candy wrappers and other particles of food, and it is utterly disgusting. Vincent has the bunk across from his, and it is well-kept. He is currently sitting there. He is thirteen, the same as Alessa, and he his face is like a Christmas tree of blemishes and acne. His teeth are wired with metal, and he is wearing the largest spectacles Walter or Bob or Claudia or Alessa have ever seen. He is reading a novel, "Mary and James in Bedlam", and it is surprising lengthy for a quack kid's book. At least that is what Johnny calls it as he stuffs another chocolate bar into his oily, brown mouth._

_"Shut up, fat-ass," Vincent retorts, and Johnny blankly stares at him for a second before lurching off of his bunk and storming out of the room. It is Vincent's foul mouth that will later subject him to the paddle, but he does not care. He feels he has the right. And it is the truth, no matter how you word it. He brushes some of the greasy, light brunet hair that mops his head. That is when Alessa walks into the room._

_"Vincent," she says, and he looks up, dazed, at the singsong of her voice. He knows Alessa for what she is—a psychic of all areas, and a powerful one at that—but he, like most of the other boys at Happy House, finds her extravagantly beautiful, and is instantly taken, even if for a moment._

_"…Huh, uh… what?" he asks, unconsciously closing his book and putting it off to the side. She is losing her momentary control sway over him, and quickly says what she has to say._

_"You're wanted outside, to help with the bonfire. And now, according to that DeSalvo." Vincent groans and glares at her._

_"What the hell do they want with me? I'm reading!"_

_"I don't know, they just told me to come along and fetch you. Get a move on."_

_"Fine, fine…" He stalks past her, grumbling how stupid it all is. When he disappears around the corner, she leaves the room as quietly as she can and gestures. Bob and Walter, who were watching through the open doorway of the room next door, walked out._

_"Where's Claudia?" Alessa demands in a hushed whisper and the two boys exchange glances and shrug. "Curses! Fine, hurry up and go in! I'll keep a look out." They nod and rush in, Walter getting on his knees and Bob scouring around beside the bunk._

_After peeking in the pillowcase, Bob asks, "Find anything yet? I swear, he hides them good!" Walter rummages around a suitcase underneath the bed, and he finds the plastic bag of graham crackers crunched and buried under two heavy sweaters. Before he can announce the triumph, however, Alessa hears the sound of heavy boots and Vincent's voice. And she knows that they have been outsmarted._

_"Guys!" she screams at them silently, but it is already too late. She can see DeSalvo's uniform out of the corner of her eye and she disappears into the room Walter and Bob had been biding their time in. Bob turns his head and sees them, DeSalvo and Vincent at his side, a snide smirk on his face._

_"What do we have here?" Andrew DeSalvo inquires and Vincent grins wider._

_"It looks like he's going through my stuff. Hey, Bob, where's Alessa? Tell us where she's hiding." But Bob does not know, and he would of course not have given away Alessa' hiding place even if he did. Why have two of them get caught if he could help it? As for Walter, he is still and as quiet as he can be under the bunk, and Vincent has no reason to believe that he is even there. For now, he has his victory._

_"So what are you doing, Bob?" DeSalvo asks, stepping into the room with his heavy boots and nightstick hanging at his side. Bob looks up at him, not really all that afraid. Let his fate come as it will. They all knew the risk of attempting this. Vincent would try anything to get a jab at them. "Are you trying to steal from Vincent, here?"_

_"Um…" Bob shrugs. "I don't know. What if I am?"_

_"You know the punishment for stealing, Bob," DeSalvo says. "It's off to the tower. I guess you just couldn't get enough of it before, huh?"_

_"Guess not."_

_DeSalvo smirks and grabs Bob's ear before forcefully yanking him out of the room, but he does not cry. Bob is a trooper, oh yes he is._

_When they are gone, Vincent, still smiling that awful smile of his, jaunts inside the dormitory and bends down for a look underneath the bed. He sees Walter's shaking form and beckons him out. "I thought you were down there, Wally. But I didn't squeal on you, now did I? Nope, I figured you'd be a bit more stricken if you knew Bob was being taken but you weren't."_

_Alessa walks out into the open as Walter crawls out, and for now Vincent has won. He looks back at Alessa and shrugs. "Oh well, looks like your operation failed, Alessa."_

_"Shut the hell up, Vincent," she says, and he does. He knows very well that Alessa could cause him harm, and very painful harm at that. Even still, he turns his attention to Walter, who is sobbing and holding back tears._

_"Huh, well, it's not like you care all that much, anyway. But Wally here…"—he chuckles—"he sure liked Bob, _didn't_ you? Yeah, in fact, I bet you hate me now, don't you? It's not like you can do anything, anyway. You two are pathetic. By the way, where's your little brat, Claudia, Alessa? The most mentally-handicapped of you actually found her sense for once."_

_She ignores him though, reaching out to Walter, actually trying to be sympathetic. She likes Walter, more than any of the other children at Happy House. Perhaps even more than that._

_"Forget him," Vincent goes on. "He can't do a thing."_

_But Walter looks up, his tears stinging his eyes and drying on his beet red cheeks. He slowly takes Mr. Sock and stretches him out over his head, and _he_ is the one grinning now, and this grin frightens Vincent. Even Alessa._

_"What's up with you now?" Vincent taunts, trying to keep his hold on the situation. "What are you doing?"_

_"…You've had your fun, Vincent," says Walter, but he is no longer Walter. Walter is gone. "In fact, I'd say you've had _too_ much fun."_

_"What?" Vincent is laughing now, but it is a fearful laugh. He backs away from Walter as they younger boy approaches, smirking sadistically._

_"Walter, what—," Alessa tries to say, but he holds up a hand and she silences. She cannot read him, and this startles her. Mayhap because she is trying to read Walter, and Walter is gone._

_"Too much fun, Vincent. I believe it's time we've had our own fun, don't you? Why should you be the one who gets to cherish these moments?" He chortles, and Vincent tries to escape, but fast as lightning, Walter takes the sock and stuffs it in Vincent's mouth._

_Alessa screams._

**BREAK TIME!**

Walter guzzled a bottled water and threw it out the same slot in the wall. Jasper was munching on some strawberries, and he ceased chewing. "And? W-What h-h-happened?"

"Uh, nothing. I kind of blacked out after that and when I woke up I was standing over Vincent and he, um, had Mr. Sock in his mouth. But as for Bob… I never saw him again."

"S-Sorry, d-dude."

"Nah, don't be. That DeSalvo got his just desserts, let me tell you!" He leaned back and closed his eyes peacefully. "A few months after that, Alessa stopped coming to Happy House, and there was a big fire in town. I don't really know what happened, but I never saw her again either, but I ended up with her hair tie after we stumbled around in a closet. And then I got that drawing Clau—STFU—dia made for her. I used it for a cigarette later on, though, when I was a hobo."

Jasper's eyes bulged in their crisped sockets. "You were a h-hobo? T-T-That's, that's awesome!"

"I know," Walter said. "Some of the best years of my life. That was a little while before I started the murders, too. Although I don't remember them all that well… Anyway, this little girl I met, Irene, she gave me a Hello Kitty!"

"Irene? The g-g-g-girl that, that was w-with H-Henry?"

"Yeah, let's see…"

_It was the start of another busy day in Ashfield, and the subway was a-busy-busy-busy. Walter had his own little place near the water fountains. It was nothing more than a mattress and his novelty shopping cart, crammed with as much manga as he could find. At this moment in time he is huddled against the wall in his multiple coats, drawing something on the back of the newspaper he has just recently collected from the trash can. He is also munching on a half-eaten bagel, but that's not the point. He is craving a special cigarette right about now, and he sets the newspaper down to fix himself one._

_He has just enough weed, he sees, and that's good, but where will he get the rest? He'll just have to ask Mr. Sock when the time comes, because that's what he always does, and Mr. Sock always has the answers._

_He is busy crafting his weed when a little girl wearing a pink vest prances over to him. The collar of her vest is lined with white fluff, and she is wearing a pink, long-sleeved shirt under the vest. She is also wearing headphones—giant pink ones—and is toting around a pink, Hello Kitty rolling backpack. Clutched in her hand is a Hello Kitty doll, and she is appraising Walter with wide, mesmerized, emerald eyes._

_The blond man frowns perplexedly at her. "Uh, um… yeah?" he asks, and she giggles._

_"You look super-duper funny!" she says excitedly, and he frowns again. "What's your name, mister?"_

_"It's, uh, Walter," he answers dumbly. "What's yours?"_

_"Irene!" she replies loudly. "Here, have the kitty Mr. Walter!" She shoves the Hello Kitty doll at him and he recoils, but a woman from up ahead calls out for her._

_"Irene, Irene! Stop talking to that man and come over here! We're going to miss the train!"_

_"Okey-dokey, mommy!" Irene steps away, waving. "Bye, Mr. Walter," she says, and he waves back._

_"…Bye…?" And then she was gone._

"A few years after that, I was lying around the nearby Happy Burger, seriously wanting some weed. That's what sucks about being alive—you get those urges, you know? Anyway, I tried to get some…"

_Today Walter is lying against the streetlamp on the corner of the Happy Burger, starving and talking gibberish to Mr. Sock. Today Mr. Sock is not responding though, and Walter is puzzled, although not really all that surprised. Mr. Sock has been more and more quiet these days._

_And yet, what he needs more than food right now is weed, for he has run himself dry of the batch he stole from the other hobo at the dollar store. It was tough to acquire that weed, and after a couple of days it was already gone, and that was a bad thing, for Walter, who was a heavy addict, his thirst—his NEED—could never be quenched._

_And then out a fairytale, his nose catches the familiar whiff of the plant. 'Weed,' he thinks aimlessly, 'nearby.' Walter's sense of smell is spectacular, and he manages to drag his exhausted body up and track the smell down, nearly being run over twice along the way. He has lost his shopping cart long ago, it having fallen down a deep trench. He has no more need for it, in any case._

_He finds himself at a construction site, where the new video rental store is going to go, but Walter of course does not happen to know this tidbit of information, and nor does he care to know it. He sees the source of the smell, and elates; three schoolgirls in their uniforms, eerily similar to his friend of old, are standing and giggling and coughing. They are smoking weed, and he will get some._

_"Wow, Cynthia," a blonde girl with dual pigtails and freckles says, "how could you take in that much?"_

_Cynthia, an attractive Hispanic girl with shoulder-length brunette hair, is taking another heavy drag when she shrugs and coughs it out. "I don't know, but this is some pretty freaky shit. Are we going to start snorting?"_

_When she asks this, the third girl—of Chinese descent, Walter presumes—points out someone across the street. It is a boy their age, wearing casual clothing and holding his backpack loosely. His brown hair is partially tousled, and his expression is intense._

_"I think that's the kid that was taking all those pictures at the last football game," the girl says, "against Ashfield High."_

_"That guy? He looks pretty cute," Cynthia muses, and she half-shrugs. "Let's go over there, what do you say?"_

_"Why not?" the blonde girl says and they all giggle and drag as they cross the street to see this enigmatic male. He sees them before they even start crossing, and he chuckles silently. Walter meanwhile watches from afar, careful not to be noticed just yet._

_"First-timers…" the boy murmurs as the girls near. He was just like them once, and he knows now knows that it's fun the first time, but just totally stupid the next time. The girls approach and he watches them coolly._

_"Hey," Cynthia greets while dragging again. "We just kind of saw you and decided we'd come over here. What's going on?" The block is completely empty and silent today, aside from the occasional passing vehicle. The boy cocks an eyebrow._

_"Smoking weed?" he asks, and the girls exchange glances. Cynthia was once again prompted to respond._

_"Yeah," she replies, and she discovers that is all she can say. He smiles and suddenly plucks the cigarette out of her hand before she can even bat an eye. The three girls watch in awe as he inspects the weed lazily._

_From his hiding place, Walter began to salivate. He wants it. He wants it so badly!_

_"If… you're going to be smoking weed," the boy said monotonously, "you have to do it with a purpose." He drags slowly and they all catch their breath as he then exhales the smoke, and it smells oh-so rich to Walter. He moves the cigarette away from his lips and looks at the girls lazily._

_Cynthia was awestruck and speechless, and speechless and awestruck. She has fallen in love with this boy during that drag of his, and it has occurred so fast she hasn't even realized it. She could only take the cigarette back and watch on as he turned his gaze to the sky and sling his backpack strap over his right shoulder. The shirttail of his checkered-white buttoned shirt flaps in the wind, and he sighs. "Well, I've got to get going," he says, and turns. "See you girls on the far side." The mysterious boy that has captured Cynthia's heart in one fell swoop walks off, and she is unable to ask his name, or his phone number, or anything about him. But she will keep the cigarette, of that she is sure, and never misplace it for the rest of her life. For now, though, she squeezes it between her teeth and lips, savoring the taste of the saliva that he has left there._

_"…Wow," the blonde girl remarks. "That was… weird."_

_"Yeah," the Chinese one says, and that is when Walter makes his move and approaches them._

_"Hey, um, you girls over there…" The two of them turn, and the blonde has to poke Cynthia to gain her attention. Once Walter has captured them all, he asks as politely as he can, "Would you all mind lending me some of your weed?"_

_There is silence, and then… "Piss off, you freak!" It is the Chinese girl, and Walter comes to realize he won't be getting any weed today._

"So… you d-didn't get any, any weed?" Jasper asked curiously, and Walter shook his head.

"Nawp, but I have some now!" He pulled out a finely-fashioned cancer stick from his coat, stuck it in his mouth, and lit it with a lighter he produced. As he put the lighter away, he smiled. "And soon after that, Jasp, is when I started with the murders." He yawned. "The first one was Father Stone, and Mr. Sock and I got him back at Happy House. After that, the next two victims were some college dudes who were smoking some weed, too. I don't really remember, but I think I got them just because I smelt some dope, even though I think I was already pretty high at the time…"

**BREAK TIME!**

_Walter goes ahead and starts to tell Jasper what he recalls from this event, but Jasper finds that he knows this story very well. He was, of course, there at the time._

_The two college kids Walter murdered turn out to be Bobby and Sein, his two long-lost buddies. The three of them were heavy fanatics of the occult and the supernatural, and when they were younger they would go on "ghost hunts" and "spook-fests". It was all in good fun._

_Tonight, Jasper, Sein, and Bobby have driven out to the woods near Silent Hill. They have heard rumors of how the town is the center of a drug ring and the face of a hidden religious community. But that is not what truly spurs them to the place. There has been talk of a "Devil" in the woods, near the old orphanage. They have decided to check this out for themselves, to have one last "ghost hunt". They will have their wish granted._

_"I think we're here," Sein says as he straightens out his beanie and puts the joint to his mouth in the passenger seat. Bobby is driving up the dirt road, the headlights barely managing to give them sufficient illumination. He grimaces._

_"How should I know? Check the damned map!"_

_"Yeah, okay, whatever. Hey, Jasp, want some of this shit?"_

_Jasper is sitting in the backseat, huddled up in his windbreaker, and he shakes his head. "N-Nah, man, I don't, uh, do that s-shit."_

_"Yeah, okay, whatever." Sein grumbles and fetches the map from the dashboard, avoiding the luau bobble-head girl as he does so. He analyzes it with that stoner's eye of his and nods. "Yep, we're here. Dude, stop the car!" Bobby puts on the brakes and nearly runs over a fox or at least something that looks like one. He shuts the ignition off and they all leave the car, each grabbing a flashlight and switching it on and rubbing their palms at the chilly night air._

_"Okay, let's get this joyride going!" Sein shouts out to all the denizens of the woods, and they all chuckle and walk up the path to a rusted metal gate, which they pass through with ease. On the other side, however, is where their trip will be cut tragically short._

_An enormous boulder, adorned with the scribbles of children, sits menacingly nearby, and they spot a shadowy figure leave through the gate up ahead. "Who was that?" Bobby asks, and the others shrug._

_"I don't know, but maybe we should go see," Sein says, and Bobby shrugs, not finding anything wrong with the idea. But Jaspers rears away, shivering._

_"I don't, I don't, uh, think we s-s-should…"_

_"Why not?" Sein queries. "Are you scared? Dude, there's nothing out here! Besides, I'll just pop out my kung fu and shove my foot up their ass! I'll kick that squirrel's ass, is what I'm basically saying."_

_"You don't have to come, Jasp," Bobby tells him. "We're only going to go and ask this guy if that orphanage is nearby. After that, we'll come back and go find this "Devil" together. Don't sweat it."_

_Sein nods and they go off, determined to find this person and interrogate him or her. Jasper is still uncertain, and he decides to bide his time by sitting beside the boulder. He does so, and waits._

_A few minutes later, while he is beginning to doze off, there is a scream. He looks up, alert, and there this another, and then a "Help! Someone, help!" and that is all. Jasper is nervous and frightened now, reluctant to go after his pals. He knows he should, at least get to the car and his cellular phone, but someone walks out from the gate, grinning sadistically. His hands are buried in his coat pockets, and he has something white and elongated over his head. Jasper slowly approaches, and the man calls out to them._

_"Don't be afraid. Come out! You've come to see me, haven't you? Me, the Devil!" The man laughs the laugh of a stoner, and Jasper runs as he fast as he can out of there and to the car. He takes Bobby's car and drives from the forest, and it's over. He won't return to these woods for almost ten years, and when he does, the Devil will get him, too._

Walter finished the story, but he seemed partially disturbed over it. He shook his head and yawned. Jasper did not comment on it, just continued guzzling his current chocolate milk. Walter stood up and stretched.

"You hungry, dude?"

"Nah, but t-thanks for the, the offer."

"Oh well, neither am I." He lay down on the sofa, propping his feet up on the farther arm rest and laying his head on the nearest one. Walter crossed his hands behind his head and glanced at Jasper. "Uh, so that was that for those college dudes. I killed some more people, at least that's what Mr. Sock's told me, and then I got arrested by the police for murdering these two little kids, and I didn't even know I'd smoked them! I like kids, too, so I was pretty freaked. And they just dumped me in jail, and then I don't know what really happened. The next thing I know, I wake up in this weird world, but luckily Mr. Sock was there to explain everything. He said I was dead, and that I'd still be able to complete those murders, and this time I couldn't be stopped. So, whatever. I go on.

"It was pretty boring for the most part, and about two years ago I stopped killing people, because Mr. Sock told me that I had to wait for some guy to move into Room 203 of North Ashfield Heights. Sometimes Mr. Sock likes to ramble about that room, but I don't see what's so special about it. But I started again, like, yesterday! Mr. Sock said it was time, and I that I had to keep the guy in Room 203 from leaving. And that guy is Henry! And he's a nice guy, damn it, which is why I'm kind of bummed out about having to keep him stuck in there.

"Anyway, you already know how, I, uh, got _you_, so I'll just tell you about the others…"

_Walter has been trailing Henry and Cynthia for the last hour or so, and it is bothering the hell out of him, for he has to pee, and Mr. Sock has forbade him to do so until he's killed the sixteenth sacrifice. "We must wait until she and Henry have been separated, and then we will strike." What Walter does not realize, however, is that Cynthia had noticed him quite awhile back, and knows very well that she is being followed. This is why she has locked door of the control room and reinforced it with a chair._

_She is fiddling around with the intercom, trying to get it to work, when she sees him out of the corner of her eye. 'Shit!' she thinks. 'The bastard's caught up. And that useless Henry isn't here, either. Damn it! He could've been my human shield, or something. I know what I have to do to escape, I've broken the fourth wall, and now this guy's going to try and rape or kill me or something. Ah, well, I'll just have to kick his ass.'_

_He gets to the door, and she finally manages to get the blasted thing to work. The chair shudders and she breathes frantically, "Testing, testing, one, two, three… Okay, Henry, you there? Henry, I found the exit, so if you want the weed come to the turnstile. You should hurry, too. This creepy guy's been following, and I think he wants it, but I won't give it to him..."_

_Walter, using his "leet" abilities, kicks the door in and blasts the chair across the small room, narrowly avoiding Cynthia._

_"Hey, there he is!" she exclaims into the loudspeaker. "What are you doing here?" she demands as Walter nears, glancing around uncertainly at all the stacks of paper in the room. Paper scares him. Anyway, he reaches out towards her with the sock._

_"Wait—get that sock away from me!" she screams, and she falls back. "Henry!" she yells, but her hand brushes over the "TALK" switch, and the loudspeaker goes off soundlessly._

_"Chill out, chick—," Walter starts, but Cynthia quickly kicks him in the crotch, and he falls over as she scrambles to her feet._

_"Take this, bitch!" she cries, and reaches under her skirt for her can of Mace. She viciously pours nearly the whole can in his eyes, and Walter yelps in pain. He helplessly tries to cover his face with his hands, and even Mr. Sock is doused with the spray. Cynthia reduces him to a heap on the floor, and seeing that she has momentarily stunned him, steps over his pathetic form and tries to escape, but he lashes out with inhuman speed and grasps her ankle. "Ugh, let go!" She stomps on his face, her high heel digging into his cheek, and manages to get away. As she starts to run, though, he recovers and drags her back in by her waist. He throws her to the other side of the room, and she is sent sprawling to the floor._

_Cynthia watches as Walter takes the sock from his hand and stretches it over his head, and she takes this split-second opportunity to brandish her can of Mace. She is about to spray him with its remains when he effortlessly slaps it away with the back of his hand. "I underestimated you," he says, "but not again. You are much more competent than Henry, though, and it is a shame he has to be the final sacrifice."_

_"What the furry shit are you blabbering about?" she demands, and he smiles and places a hand on her cheek, even while she balls a fist and attempts a swing at him. He catches it easily with his other hand and gently releases it._

_"I am speaking of the ritual, of course, Cynthia," he explains. "To free my mother, you and everyone else will have to die… and I cannot guarantee it will be pain-free."_

_"You sadistic motherfu-," but he silences her by stabbing her with a switchblade he has seemingly produced from out of thin air. She gasps for air as he stabs her again, and again. And when he is done and over her, he will carve those fated numbers into her left breast, and leave to get something to drink from the vending machine. Though before he leaves he says to her as she lies on the floor, in her own blood, "May you sleep well."_

_Once completed with that part of the story, Walter pauses to relay to Jasper some irrelevant, humorous, side-notes that are overall irrelevant and will not make a difference to you or me after this is done and you are leaning back in that chair of yours. Now Walter will skip over Andrew DeSalvo's death, citing it as not exciting enough. And besides, you already know how that went. Instead, he will skip on over to his anecdote of Richard Braintree's death, and he, like everyone else, will make the mistake of referring to him as "Richie"._

_Braintree had followed little Walter out of the elevator and through a bit more of the convoluted mess the city was, eventually ending up at the mid-section of a very long catwalk that extended on up for an eternity. Cursing like he always did, Richard starts up the catwalk and watches as the kid gets ahead of him, for he is a little pipsqueak, and Richard is beginning to go his ways. He is not as young as he used to be, like when he chased that annoying little blond kid with the sock on his head out of the apartment building. Frank never bothered, but it's not like he gave a damn in the first place._

_At the very top of the catwalk, Richard finds a door—his apartment's door, and while this disturbs him, he knows that the kid has escaped through here, and he intends to go in and see what the brat knows about all this. He storms in with his revolver trained forward, but is not prepared to see a grown, coated man with a sock over his head standing right before the door. He doesn't even get the chance to fire a single shot._

_Walter takes him by the arm and swings him into the chair that is stationed in the center of black-and-white checkerboard-tiled floor. Richard knows that this is the lazy chair he usually eases in, but he soon realizes that something is wrong. There are metal clamps bolted down on the armrests, and he feels something cold touch his temples. He can do nothing but struggle uselessly as Walter locks the clamps around his wrists and then connects the two clamps around his forehead._

_"Comfortable enough, Richard?" he asks, and Richard grits his teeth._

_"Who the hell—," but Walter holds a finger to his lips and shakes his head._

_"Don't waste your breath. Soon, Henry will come and find you, dying in this chair. You may lament on how no one would be able to see you die, but I have solved that problem for you, now haven't I? May you sleep well, but how can you in the resounding chaos I will now be sending you to?" He laughs that stoner laugh of his, and Richard watches on grimly, his heart racing, as Walter switches the power on and Richard feels his entire body light up like a Christmas trees. His bones rattle in their sockets, his skin sears, and he sees Walter—the man with the sock on his head—leave him to die._

**LAST BREAK TIME!**

"…W-Wow…" Jasper remarked, and Walter nodded with satisfaction.

"Yup, and here we are now. It's been awhile, but Mr. Sock says that the ritual thing-y will be done soon, and when it is…" Walter smiled greatly. "It'll be just like Happy Place!"

"S-Sounds like, like a cool place to b-be."

"It is dude. I've _seen_ it. And maybe it was only a dream… but it was real enough for me." He sighed. "We should be there soon. In fact, I think the ride should be stopping right about…"

Before he could finish, the jingle sounded and the disembodied voice returned. "Hello, gentlemen. We have reached the end of the ride. I hope you have enjoyed your trip, and please ride with us again. Have a nice day."

The intercom went off and the doors of the elevator opened, revealing a dark, narrow corridor before them. What would lead to the subway. "Alright, sweet!" Walter exclaimed as he glanced at Jasper. "Let's go! You can come too, Mr. Bucket!" He scooped the tin bucket up and they departed, but not before Jasper combusted again.

"Argh!"

**To be continued…**


	8. Dreaming of a Dream

**Silent Hill 4: The Not-So Parody-(Dreaming of a Dream)**

Henry and Irene, the hapless heroes of this dreary tale, walked out onto a spiraling staircase that went down a many ways. There was a sky here, and Irene clapped her hands in a fashion very reminiscent of mentally-stunted fellows. "Ooh, pretty!" she exclaimed. The "sky", if you want to call it so, was the deep orange of twilight. Henry ignored her childlike antics and leaned over the weakened railing to peer down below.

"Screw this," he muttered, noting the extreme distance they would have to cover to reach the bottom. "Irene, get your retard ass over here." Irene giggled at Henry's use of "retard" and joined him at the railing.

"…What is it, Henry? Have you found my tampon…?"

"No, forget about the damn tampon for a bit. We're going to jump."

"But, Henry…" Irene furrowed her brow in deep thought. She counted her fingers, squinted her good eye, and at last said, "…Won't that, uh… kill us…?"

"Kill us?" Henry laughed. "No, don't be stupid, Irene! Well, not that you can help it, but I've done this before. All it takes is a little breaking of the fourth wall, and besides, we'll never make it down in enough time to catch Walter and Jasper if we go the long way." He waited for a response from her, received nothing, and then sighed. "Whatever, you can stay here for all eternity if you like."

The brunet drew a breath and took a few steps back, and then he sprinted forward, leaping over the railing… well, okay, he practically tripped over it and plunged downward, falling crazily before hitting the top of something solid. Henry struggled up, cursing, when he heard a scream. Irene flung at him like a speeding bullet and he fell back over the edge of the invisible surface and crashed down on a lower level of the staircase, with Irene on top of him.

"Wow, Henry, that was _fun_!" she said before he shoved her off and got to his feet.

"Just shut up, Irene," he said quietly when all of a sudden something fell from the sky and conked Irene on the head, instigating another stupid laugh from her. Henry caught the object swiftly as it bounced from her head, and saw that it was a diet cola can. He raised it to his nose and sniffed. "Smells like… _otaku_…" he murmured hatefully while crushing the can as much as he could in his hand and throwing it out the side of the staircase. "Enough of this, let's move."

"Okey-doke!" And so they descended the great staircase, unwary of any monsters that could easily pop out and decapitate them at a moment's notice. Irene was following Henry like a lame dog, and Henry was imagining himself in a giant mountain of weed and alcohol, and with Irene, Walter, Jasper, and everyone else who pissed him off dead and impaled on multiple spikes with salt being poured endlessly on their open wounds.

They walked for an incomprehensible amount of time, but just when Henry was going to consider jumping again, they came to the end. The two touched down on a surface of a gray tiling, and a short set of stairs led downward. Over the flight of stairs was a large sign with the words **WELCOME TO SUBWAY WORLD LOL** printed on it.

"What's a "Subway World", Henry?" Irene asked, and he glanced back at her.

"If it is what I think it is, then we're screwed."

The couple moved down into Subway World and ran out into a long, dark corridor. Piping was constructed all around them, and Henry navigated this small labyrinth quickly to find another door with Chibi markings upon it and a thick, long, white(:3) candle lying to the far side. Henry fetched it and stuffed it in his pants like he always did, determining he might need the object for later, even if it was only a candle.

"…Hey, Henry, you know, they never found that Joe guy's body, so, like… could he be _here_?" Henry was inspecting the door thoroughly for any other clues and he shrugged in response.

"Like hell if I know. Anyway, just stopping trying to sound smart and let's go." He eased the door open, bat raised, and saw three monkey-men from the city central hunkered over near the escalators he had originally taken to enter this hellhole. Upon seeing it, Henry internally cursed. 'So we're back to square one. What the hell?'

"OMFG, _monkeys_!" Irene cried happily and the monkey-men whipped around to the sound of her voice instantly.

"Damn it, Irene!" Henry exclaimed, slapping his forehead. The monkey-men made some more of their strange, monkey-like sounds and leaped towards them. "_Monkey-rape this, assholes_!" Henry screamed, recalling his close encounter of the kinky kind back in the city. He jumped to meet them, and he struck the first one in the temple with his bat. It crumpled to the floor and he stomped on its testicles, one-hit-killing it and sloshing his shoe with its stuff.

Irene laughed and Henry proceeded to brutally kill the other monkey-men. He even considered urinating on them, but he had no urge to pee, and who knows what bacteria emanated from these things.

"…Come on, Irene, let's go," he said while walking past her and towards the restrooms Cynthia had disappeared at earlier. Irene trailed behind him faithfully, and they bypassed the restrooms and headed for the turnstiles.

The first thing Henry noticed, however, was the _hair_. There was a trail of it leading right to the King Street Line turnstiles, and it was composed of every type of hair imaginable. Head hair. Body hair. Pubic hair. Henry fought back the urge to puke out whatever was dwelling in his stomach, be it demonic fetus or pink monkey.

The trail of hair ended at a prone figure behind the turnstiles, near the control room. A pale, gangly arm was desperately trying to fit itself in the crack of the arm, or it at least appeared that way to Henry. He cocked an eyebrow and approached warily. "Hey, hairy thing, what the hell are you doing?"

The figure stopped its strange action and looked up, but it of course could not see, due to the amazing amount of hair that was covering his face. It furrowed its brow and managed an eerie crawl towards the turnstiles, and then, after a moment of reluctance, phased through them, just like all the other ghosts. It hovered in place and then slowly approached Henry and Irene, brushing aside some of the hair as it did so, all before uttering two words.

"Oh, shit."

Henry laughed, and then laughed some more, and finally he sighed, grinned, and cocked his head. "I guess I should have suspected this, Jasper being a ghost, and all... but it's still funny as hell! You're a freaking ghost, now, too, Cynthia! It's hilarious!"

"Shut the hell up, Henry," Cynthia said tiredly while struggling to get something from under her skirt while trying to hold up her hair to see. "Being a "freaking ghost" has its advantages."

"Like what? It doesn't change the fact that you're a dirty whore who can't spare some weed." Henry shouldered his bat and shrugged. "Besides, now that you're a ghost, I can kick your ass all I want."

Her brow went up in amusement. "_Really_? I'd like to see you try. If I recall correctly, you couldn't even defend yourself from that ghost that was trying to tear your poor excuse of nuts off."

"And when the hell do you know the size of my nuts? You're just a load of bull. I'll have you know, in fact, that I'm owned quite a few freaking monkey-things and dogs since Walter ass-raped you."

"Walter?" Cynthia scowled. "Is that the name of that guy that killed me? The one with the sock?"

"Yeah, that's him alright. Him and Jasper. You haven't seen then around, have you? I'd presume that they've come and laid a trap for us."

**Actually…**

"G-God, this p-p-place is pretty s-s-s-scary…" Jasper muttered, eyeing the morbid setting of the subway frightfully.

"Don't worry, man," Walter assured, even though he himself was shivering slightly. "Nothing can, um, actually hurt us here. We're both pretty much dead, you know."

"I, I know…"

They took a few steps and then saw something truly disgusting at the center of the subway platform. Four dogs gangbanging.

"Holy cow, _run_!" Walter screamed, and they ran out of there.

**Back with our heroes…**

"They're pretty crafty, those biotches…" Henry went on, but Cynthia wasn't paying him any heed. She was staring at Irene, who was poking Henry.

"Henry… I have to tinkle…"

"What?"

"Who the hell is that?" Cynthia asked flatly, finally achieving her objective in withdrawing a cigarette from under her skirt. She lit it with a fingernail and Henry followed it with lustful eyes, but he answered her question nonetheless.

"That's just Irene."

"And what is she, your new companion or whatever?"

"What?" Henry smiled devilishly. "Are you jealous?"

"Of course not," she answered immediately. "I was only bringing up a point. But look at her! How can she be of any help to you?"

They watched as Irene wandered over to the payphones nearby and awkwardly raised it from the receiver, her urge to pee growing stronger still. She glanced around herself nervously and spoke, "Hello…?"

"I needed a new human shield, and so far she at least seems to be more durable than _you_." Henry glanced at Irene. "Go and pee, Irene, and hurry your ass up. I'm not waiting around." She smiled stupidly and rushed off as fast as she could back to the restrooms. Henry turned back to Cynthia, who was dragging.

"So, tell me, have you seen Walter and Jasper around?"

"Who's Jasper?"

"Some random freak, but he's a pussy. The only thing he has going for him is that he's dead like you. I've already shot his hand off, anyway."

"Yeah, yeah…" Cynthia took a final drag and then snuffed out her cigarette. "Whatever, I haven't seen that Walter freak or anyone else. It's pretty lonely here, to be honest. Aside from the occasional dog or retarded ghost, I've got no one to talk to. So I've been practicing my "phasing" skills. There was something I found in that control room before Walter got to me, and I've been trying to phase through it, but some unconventional, convoluted plot device is stopping me."

Henry looked back at the room. "There? Could I take a look?"

"What?"

"To check it out. I might be able to open it."

"And you're not gay. Fine, hold up." Cynthia reached under her skirt again, and while Henry might have found this exciting before, Cynthia was a floating zombie, and so it partially made him queasy. She brought out a small, yellow slip of paper. "My commuter ticket, just because I can."

"Whatever. Just hurry up." Henry tapped his foot impatiently and waited as she opened up the King Street Line turnstiles. He went through and inspected the door. "Huh, this was where you were killed, right?"

"Yeah."

"So it's a murder scene, right?"

"Yeah."

"And… if I had a murder scene key, wouldn't that open the door?"

"…Yeah, I guess so."

"Um. I think I have the key to this room."

"What? No shit?"

"No shit, but it's back at my apartment."

"At your _apartment_? You know how to get the hell out of here?"

"What? Of course I do, you just never bothered to ask. Whatever, you're dead anyway." He turned and headed back to the restrooms, and while Cynthia was a tad perplexed at why Henry actually bothered to _return_ to this place when he could just leave, she recalled that he was mentally ill and everything else was okay. She decided to resume trying to phase through the door, since, hell, she had all the time in the world.

---

Henry kicked the Women's restroom door open and walked inside, scanning about for the hole. He saw it and made to climb up into it when Irene tripped out of the nearly toppled over him. "Oh, Henry, what are you doing here? This is the girl's tinkle place, silly!"

"Yeah, I know. I was just going to use the hole."

"What hole…? Are you going to find my tampon…?"

"No, don't be any stupider than you already are. I'm going to go get the key for the door Cynthia's trying to open. Anyway, go bother her or something."

"Okey-doke!" Henry shoved her roughly aside and entered the hole, and when he vanished Irene gawked on before returning to the turnstiles.

Cynthia was once again ramming her hand into the door, and when Irene saw her she laughed. "You're _fat_, crazy-hair-lady!"

**FLUSH!**

…**Back to your program.**

Henry awoke to the sound of something crashing in his living room. "Ah, shit, what now?" He hurried there and saw that the ceiling fan had apparently just fallen from the ceiling and stuck his coffee table, scattering his remote and other miscellaneous belongings to the far winds of the apartment. "How the hell did this happen?" Henry hunkered down to examine the fan when his eye caught the familiar red glint of Joe's notes. This one was stuck behind the bookcase, and he quickly took it.

**I found this CRAZY sword back in the forest. It was sticking out of the giant rock that's there. It seemed to ward off those stupid ghosts, so I used it to slice off their heads! Ah-hah, it felt just like Forbidden Siren!**

**Also, it seems that the medallion I found and all those candles can be used to exorcise the hauntings that have been popping up in the room. I seriously wanted to decapitate Willy, but having a dead head on the couch wasn't all that appealing…**

**I think there are more of those "holy swords", since I used another one in the city to pin down that annoying ghost. I was in a rush, what can I say? TTFN—Joe S.**

"Decapitate? What does that mean again?" Henry folded his arms over his chest and silently pondered the word when he remembered what he had come to the apartment for. He dove to the chest and rummaged around a bit before finding the "**Murder Scene Key lol**". He rammed it in his pocket and went back to the hole.

**FLUSH!**

…**Now back to your program.**

"Hey, bimbos, I have the key!" Henry shouted as he left the Women's restroom and walked back to the turnstiles. When he arrived Irene was twisting a strand of hair around her finger and adjusting her nurse's hairpiece, which had a giant, pink heart painted on it.

"Oh, hey Henry! Did you find my tampon…?"

"Where's Cynthia?" he asked, ignoring her umpteenth reference to her tampon.

"Um, the crazy-hair-lady disappeared …"

"_Disappeared_?" Henry ran over to Irene and shook her forcefully by the shoulders, getting out of her nothing but mindless giggles. "Where did she go, Irene? Tell me, goddamn you! Do you have any idea how sly of a biotch she is? I shouldn't have even left to begin with! Now I won't be able to kill her!"

"But… how can you kill her if she's, um, a zombie…?"

"She's not a _zombie_, Irene! She's a freaking _ghost_, albeit in a tangible form! You can kill a ghost, you know, but you can't kill a zombie."

"But… isn't a _tangible_ ghost… a _zombie_…?" Irene was very puzzled.

"No! A zombie is a cadaver, the reanimated corpse! A ghost is the spirit."

"But… how do you know she's a ghost? She could be a zombie."

"Because I do just do, okay? I don't even know whey we're debating this! How about let's just call her a "_ghombie_"?"

"_Yay_!"

"Alright, whatever."

"Hey, Henry…?"

"What?"

"Can my tampon and I do you?"

"Not right now, Irene. We have to see what's in that room, first."

Fortunately, the King Street Line turnstiles were still open, so Henry and Irene slid through and went for the control room. Henry unlocked it after some difficulty, and he opened the door to see that someone had wiped the whole room clean of any of Cynthia's "tomato juice". Everything that had fallen over had been placed in their respective locations, and it was all amazingly well cleaned and organized. In the corner, however, something lurked in the shadows. Henry crouched down and reached for it. He grabbed the item and brought it out for inspection.

It was a black, leather handle of some sort. He lobbed it between his hands. "This looks like the only thing that might be of use. I think it's a handle…" He turned back to Irene. "Okay, let's get going."

---

Walter and Jasper were still running, scared shitless, when they almost bumped into Cynthia, who had phased through the wall suddenly and was now in their way. They braked just in time, and she chuckled.

"I guess Henry wasn't lying about you little whores…" She was smoking another cigarette, and lightly dragged as she spoke. "So you're Walter and Jasper…"

"Um…" Walter laughed nervously. "Look, I'm _really_ sorry about everything that happened, but I kind of didn't have a choice!"

"Don't worry," Cynthia said calmly. "I know it wasn't you behind it. It was the sock."

Walter narrowed his eyes at her. "Wait a pumpkin-pie-minute, how do you know about Mr. Sock?" Before Cynthia could smugly answer, a subway car stopped behind them and out walked Henry Townshend and Eileen, the supposed "alternates". They turned and faced the others, and Walter let out a sharp chortle.

"…Unfortunately, I don't think we have the time for these petty squabbles," he said jovially, taking Jasper by the arm and then leaping onto the next subway car. They landed and the car began to move immediately.

"Wait!" Townshend called, but already they were disappearing into the dark depths of the subway. Cynthia slunk away, leaving in her wake a squad of dogs, a mix-and-match of females and males. Townshend and Eileen brandished their weapons and one of the dogs lunged; the brunet reared back and avoided the attack. He retaliated by burying his axe into the dog's spine.

Eileen let loose a shower of bullets on the dogs, slaughtering them with ease, but more and more of the beasts found their way into the fray. Townshend drew his pistol and easily downed several with well-aimed headshots. As the fighting raged on, Henry and Irene stumbled down the stairs.

"It's them!" Henry cried. "The otaku!" But before he could go and engage them in any further combat, Cynthia reemerged and grabbed him.

"Henry, Walter and Jasper are getting away!" She motioned at the subway tunnel quickly, and he frowned.

"They can wait, you whorish "ghombie"!" Henry retorted as he broke away from her. "I have to take this chance to get Henry and his whore!" He turned and saw a good number of dogs nearing them, fangs bared wickedly around their grotesquely oblong tongues. He glanced at Irene, who pranced forward.

"_Cute little doggies_!" she exclaimed while clapping her hands and giggling.

"Damn it, Irene!" Henry shouted, and he grabbed her and decided he had no choice. He followed as Cynthia floated down the subway platform and towards the next one.

---

As the subway car barreled forward, Jasper watched with unease as Walter placed Mr. Sock over his head and patted its rim around his forehead. He reached into his coat and produced two things: a joint and a sheathed katana.

"You've b-b-been c-carrying those around?" Jasper asked, and Walter nodded, taking a good inhaling from the joint.

"Yes." He smiled eerily—the same smile that he wore around ten years ago, when he murdered Sein and Bobby near the orphanage—and looked back at the darkness of the tunnel as it receded. "They are coming," he said monotonously while placing the joint away. Jasper gazed down at his stump of a left arm and whimpered quietly.

Sure enough, Cynthia, Henry, and Irene—the last of whom was still laughing idiotically at nothing in particular—ran out onto the subway platform and saw Walter and Jasper's car disappear once again into the blackness. "Shit, we're losing them!" Henry cursed.

"Not for long," said Cynthia with a snicker. "The tunnel loops; they'll be coming back in just a minute. We just have to wait for our chance."

"Cynthia, why are you so gung-ho about them? You didn't seem like you really gave a damn earlier."

"I have my reasons, Henry, and, in fact, I could ask the same of you."

"Me?" His face darkened. "They're otaku, or at least Walter is, and I don't give a shit about Jasper; I don't need a reason to want to get _him_. But Walter's an otaku, so that's enough reason for me to smoke his ass."

Cynthia seemed just a tad taken aback at this, but she recovered and dragged. "And why is being an otaku such a bad thing?"

"Like you said, Cynthia," Henry responded with a light smirk, "I have my reasons."

---

"D-D-Didn't we, uh, didn't we pass by h-here, already?" Jasper inquired, and Walter nodded.

"Yes, the subway loops. Unless you use the second metro line, of course." He stepped up to the edge of the car's roof and motioned for Jasper to go inside. "You'd best allow me to handle this, Jasper." The charred ghost complied immediately and floated down into the interior of the car. Mr. Sock laughed and set Mr. Bucket down, and he waited to arrive back at our heroes' platform.

Meanwhile, Henry was seething. "_Freak_, man!" he yelled. "I can't wait anymore! I need to kick some otaku ass right _now_!" He raised his bat and began smacking the floor with it, over and over. "Die, you goddamned otaku subway! He made you; he made everything, so you're all otaku! ALL OF IT! _ALL OF IT IS OTAKU AND JAP AND MUST DIE_!" He cackled crazily and was about to start viciously destroying the crippled Irene when Cynthia slapped him as hard as she could.

"Henry, get a hold of yourself!"

"Oh, oh, sorry. I'm just really impatient right now."

"Yeah, well, the train is here."

"_Yay_!"

"Shut up, Irene."

"That was you, Henry."

"Oh."

As she said, the subway car's headlights could be seen very well from the tunnel, and Henry raced forward. "Okay, it's now or never! We either make our stand now and have no regrets, or run and die as cowards! _Who's with me_?" Cynthia stared blankly at him and Irene giggled.

Regardless, he rushed forward and leaped to the car as it passed, managing to grasp onto the rim of its roof. Cynthia shrugged, grabbed Irene, and they phased through the car's closed door. Jasper was sitting down, muttering gibberish. Cynthia tapped him on the shoulder. "Hi."

"_HOLY SHIT_!"

Meanwhile, Henry clambered atop the car and faced Walter, who was smoking some Marijuana. "Hello, Henry. I am rather impressed that you have survived this long, given the circumstances."

"Whatever. You're not going to run? You seem to have a knack for it."

Mr. Sock smiled creepily and discarded his cigarette; it clashed against the tunnel wall and fell onto the tracks, leaving behind a faint trail of microscopic, dying embers. Henry fought the urge to jump after it.

"No. There's no more reason to, for you see, it is _I_ who have the upper hand now."

"Hmm, you sound different."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you don't sound like an idiot. And, you have that ridiculous sock over your head; you look like someone's given you an atomic wedgie."

"I see." He laughed heartily. "You are correct, in any case. I am the one he calls, "Mr. Sock". Walter lacks the ability to kill you, but I do not."

"Let me guess: you're the one who's been killing everybody, right, not Walter?"

"You're right."

There was a period of silence between them, and then Henry shrugged. "Oh well, doesn't matter a lick to me. I'm still going to kill you."

Mr. Sock chuckled and spread out his arms. "Then come at me, Henry."

The brunet cried out and ran at the coated man, prepared to strike with his bat. Mr. Sock stepped back, took Mr. Bucket by his fingertips, and then threw him with little effort. Henry moved his head and knocked away the bucket with his bat. It flew out against the tunnel wall and was lost forever. Mr. Sock wasted no time; he unsheathed his katana and dashed at Henry with the speed of a devil.

Staring his arch-nemesis right in the eye, Henry ran to meet him, swinging his bat. Metal and aluminum clashed and Henry and Mr. Sock traded places. Henry's bat glimmered, and then the high end of it slid off and hit the subway car roof with a thud. He stared at his severed weapon and moaned. "Oh, _come on_! _Seriously_!"

Mr. Sock laughed again and brandished his katana. "It seems that the victor has been decided, my friend." He stepped forward, and Henry stepped back, and this continued until he found himself teetering on the edge of the subway car.

"Crap."

Below, Jasper had hopped out of his seat and was staring wide-eyed at the two women, one of them dead and the other totally warped. "Y-Y-You guys s-s-scared me."

"No shit," Cynthia said, as she flicked her cigarette away. Irene bound forward and flailed her arms wildly.

"_We're kick going to kick your ass, ghombie-dude!_" she screamed, perplexing him even more.

Jasper rubbed his temple with the blunt end of his arm. "W-What?"

"This!" Cynthia hovered towards him and bashed him in the head with a discarded golf club she found lying on one of the seats amidst the sea of littered newspapers. "Open up the door!" she barked, and, while giggling, Irene did as bid and Cynthia heaved Jasper's dazed corpse(:D) out and onto the subway tracks.

"That takes care of that," she said while brushing her hands. As she produced yet another cigarette, Irene frowned upward at a clunk from above.

"What about Henry…?"

"Huh? Oh, screw him. He can get castrated for all I care."

"What's that mean, ghombie lady?"

"Never mind, but if you're going to keep complaining…" Cynthia looked up and noticed a hatch on the ceiling. She swung it open and poked her head through the opening to see Walter advancing upon Henry, smiling devilishly as she did so. Cursing to herself, Cynthia floated upwards, phased through the roof, wondered why she just hadn't done that in the first place, looked around, and saw Henry gawking at her(oO). Mr. Sock grinned.

"I see the horror in your face, Henry… this is the end!"

"Wait!" the brunet cried, and the murderer stopped and lowered his sword.

"Yes? Would you like a last word?"

"Um, yeah, I guess." Henry cleared his throat, scratched his head, and then inhaled deeply. "Alright, I have three words for you."

Mr. Sock nodded. "Yes, and what are they?"

"PWNED!"

Cynthia bashed him in the back of the head with the shovel and Mr. Sock stumbled and fell onto the tracks. He landed on his back and cringed, staring as Henry made a series of rude hand gestures and then stuck his tongue out. "Who's the biotch _now?_ Now who has the upper hand? Owned, you newb!" Henry drew Richard's revolver and attempted to snuff Mr. Sock out then and there, but Cynthia tackled him to the floor of the roof and the subway car sped on.

Mr. Sock quickly flipped onto a crouching position and saw Jasper lying across from him. He had been knocked unconscious. He scowled and made his way towards the ghost, but a horn interrupted his progress. He turned his head and saw another train heading for them, and the both of them were rammed away.

---

"What the hell's your problem, you stupid biotch?" Henry demanded as they disembarked at the next platform. Irene was sucking on a lollipop(:3) she discovered wedged between two seats, and Cynthia was smoking once again. She brushed Henry away with a wave of the hand.

"What the hell does it matter? You wouldn't have killed him."

"It's not about killing him!" Henry responded, exasperated. "I mean, it _is_, but at the same time I want to _own_ him, and was that ownage back there, I ask you?"

"You play way too many MMORPGS, little boy," Cynthia said while turning away and Henry gritted his teeth.

"For your information, _biotch_, I don't play PC games," Henry replied. "In fact, how about we go a round of DDR right here, if you feel so smug? I bet I could kick your ass!"

Cynthia cocked an eyebrow under her oblong hair and shook her head. "I think I'll pass on that one. I actually have a _life_, or I did, so I never played your stupid video games. Anyway, I'm leaving." She crushed her cigarette under the heel of her shoe and floated away, and Henry made no move to stop her.

"Let the wall bit you on the way out," Henry sneered, and when she was gone he glanced at the severed bat in his hand and threw it to the floor. "Come on, Irene, we're getting the hell out of here." Irene giggled and followed, and they traveled through the nearest door. A ladder in the corner of the small room just screamed of it being the only route, and down.

"Okay, Irene, let's go." He waited and she blinked, and he slapped his forehead. "What is it, _now_?"

"Um, Henry, I can't climb a ladder with my arm like this…"

"Nonsense," Henry said immediately. "My father forced me to climb a tree when my arm and left pinky were broken, so don't give me that."

"Why did he do that, Henry…?"

"Found some naughty anime I downloaded."

"But… I thought you didn't like anime."

"Look, shut your mouth and just climb down the damned ladder!"

"Okay…" Irene huffed and puffed and reached for the first rung, but only succeeded in toppling over the edge and plunging down below.

Henry sighed and looked down over the edge to see her laughing stupidly and poking her finger at the familiar red, pulsating flesh that composed the subway walls and floor. In a fluid bound, Henry jumped down and landed ungracefully on the metal grating that served as a makeshift walkway.

"Henry, it's so soft!"

"I don't give a shit, now come on." He jerked her up and thrust her forward so that she fell down the steps that led to the next door that would take them to the lower platform. As they left through it, the beanie ghost crept up around the corner, glaring at their backs with his remaining eye.

Henry recalled that this was the platform where Cynthia had hailed him the first time he had come here, and he wondered vaguely if the undead woman was wandering around. Not that it mattered to him one way or the other.

He and Irene walked down its rusty length and saw a number of rundown cars lining the expanse of the platform. The vending machine Henry had seen earlier was still in its place, and Irene ran up to it. "Look, Henry! They're so cute!" She pointed at the contents of the machine and Henry saw that they were stuffed monkeys, all of them wearing t-shirts that exclaimed "**I SHOOT LASERS THAT PENETRATE YOU A LOT**".

"Eww, it says "penetrate"," Henry remarked silently, and when he turned to Irene he gasped. She had shoved her good arm all the way through the vending chute to try and acquire one of the monkeys, and Henry grumbled irritably. "Look what you've done now, Irene! I don't even think I have any change on me to get you out…"

"It's okay, Henry…" she said, "you just have to pull me out." She wiggled her buttocks in his direction and he instantly turned squeamish.

"Look, Irene, I don't roll that way. That's disgusting, okay? Stop looking at me like that." Irene was pouting at him, with her eyes greatly widened and her bottom lip protruding.

"But Henry… there's no other way to get me out…"

Henry sighed and considered his options. He still needed a human shield, and, for some reason he couldn't explain, Irene was great entertainment value, just like Cynthia had been. Shaking his head, he approached her backside and hesitantly wrapped his arms around her waist, feeling the tight material of her costume under his fingers, which were gathering more and more sweat by the second. 'This is really suggestive…' he thought, and Irene looked behind at him.

"Okay, Henry, I'm ready!"

"Right, yeah." He gulped, steadied himself, and was about to pull when there was a horrified scream from behind them.

"_Oh my God, what the hell are you doing_?" The beanie ghost sped towards them and Henry detached himself from Irene as fast as lightning.

"Oh, uh, nothing, nothing at—,"

"Because dude I _so_ want in!"

"Uh, _what_?"

"Well, you know! Gangbangs with vending machines are always fun, and I can be the one in the back!" Henry puked in his throat, and as the beanie ghost was about to unzip his pants he stopped him.

"No, you don't understand. We weren't trying to gangbang. It's just that she's stuck and I'm not sure how to get her arm out."

"Oh." The beanie ghost, disheartened, sighed. "All you have to do is press the button on the side."

"Button?" The ghost nodded and hovered to the side of the machine, where a giant red button was present. Under it in white, bold letters was: **IF STUCK, PRESS BUTTON**. He did and Irene flew back, having been expulsed from the machine by a powerful jet stream of air. She crashed into Henry and they fell back, and the beanie ghost sulked away to leave them to their own merits.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid…" Henry climbed to his feet and looked towards the intact subway train that had caught his interest the first time he arrived. "Hey, Irene, let's go check that out… Hey, Irene?" He turned and saw her about to reach back into the vending chute. "No, Irene!" He dragged her away and towards the train, and once inside they walked forward through the sections of the train. At last, they came upon the driver's cabin, and the steering handle seemed to be missing a quarter piece of itself.

"Hey, this might just be where that thing goes!" Smiling gleefully, Henry attached the handle he had found and the train suddenly jolted back, throwing the two of them to the floor. Metal screeched hideously, and Irene screamed, and when the train ceased its moving, she still went on with her annoying hollering.

"Shut up, Irene!" Henry yelled, and he backhanded her again. She went quiet and he stood up to find what exactly had come about due to his meddling. Sure enough, a set of stairs revealed itself behind a previously hidden portion of wall, and Henry and Irene went down it.

Before them at the bottom was a door identical to the one they found at the bottom of the hospital, and leaning against the wall was a sword. Henry peered at it quizzically and tried to pick it up, only to nearly drop it because of its surprising weight. Drawing a breath, he hefted it and examined the weapon.

The blade was sleek and the hilt was refined and painted a gleaming silver. On the blade itself, inscribed in black, was this: **SWORD OF OBSCENITIES AND VULGARITY**, and attached to the sword's hilt was a tag which read,** Number 2 of 5; Collect them all!**

"Hmm, pretty nifty," Henry commented as he tested a swing; the sword clinked the wall and he almost tripped with it. "Alright, this is awesome!" he exclaimed while regaining his composure. "Whatever. Okay, let's go, Irene!"

"Hotdog with sauerkraut?"

"No."

"Oh, okay."

And they left through the door.

**Interlude(!$&!)**

"MR. BUCKET!" Walter sobbed rampantly as he took out his sorrow and frustration on the corridor's floor. He slammed his fists repeatedly on a poor piece of tile, which took it all in stride.

Jasper was floating off to the side, readjusting his left arm, which had been nearly knocked out of its socket after the train had collided with them. Mr. Sock was lying beside Walter.

"Darn it, _darn it all_!" Walter screamed. "Mr. Bucket hadn't done a single thing wrong! He was the cleanest dude I'd ever met! But Henry still went and killed him! Why? _Why did it have to end this way_?"

"If you are so angry, why not take vengeance on the one who brought about his untimely death? Henry Townsend?" Mr. Sock spoke, and Walter nodded amidst all his tears. He picked himself and Mr. Sock up and turned to Jasper.

"Okey-dokey, Jasp, let's get moving…"

Jasper nodded and they started off down the hallway and through the subway, eventually reaching the platform where Henry and Irene had left by. "I c-c-could've s-sworn they would, would be heading h-here…" Jasper muttered, and Walter shrugged gloomily, and then he saw it. A small gadget sticking out from the top of a trash bin, shining in the dull light.

"OH-MY-GOSH-IS-THAT-WHAT-I-THINK-IT-IS?" Walter rushed forward and snatched the object up, almost hyperventilating as he did so. "OHMYGOSHYESITISJASPERLOOKIT'SASCOUTEROHMYGOD!"

"A w-what?"

"A scanner!" Walter exclaimed, his past angst forgotten. "They use these things to measure power levels!"

"L-Like from that c-c-crazy anime they used, used to show?"

"Yes! Anyway, let's mosey!"

The two of them(three, if counting a certain sock) made their way across the platform, and then something flew out in their path, causing them to leap back in shock. It was a bucket, and Walter gasped. "Mr. Bucket!"

"Oh, so you know what the bucket is?" The beanie ghost floated out to them. "I was kicking it around."

"You kicked Mr. Bucket around? What's _wrong_ with you, dude?"

"I don't know. I was bored."

"Whatever, now—j,"

Walter could not finish, as the bucket flopped suddenly on the ground. Walter and Jasper exchanged glances as the bucket lurched towards the beanie ghost, who edged back. "What—," The bucket lashed out and landed on his head, and he screamed so shrilly Walter and Jasper covered their ears. Then, a wet pop reached their ears, and the beanie ghost stopped his antics. The remains of his head dripped down from the interior of the bucket.

"D-Did you s-s-see that?" Jasper asked.

"Yeah," Walter answered. "His head blew up 'cause his scream was reverberated."

"Convoluted explanation," Mr. Sock murmured, and the beanie ghost twitched.

"…Walter, Jasper?"

"What?" the blond asked. The two backed away from the strange voice that was now emanating from under the bucket. The beanie ghost raised his hands and seemed to peer at them from through the bucket. His feet touched down on the ground, and the two misfits stared on as the ghost let its arms fall.

"You can still talk, dude?" Walter inquired shakily, and the voice under the bucket chuckled.

"…The ghost guy is gone, Walter," it informed them, "but I'm not."

"Mr. Bucket?" Walter queried, and the ghost advanced, frightening them back.

"…Yeah, you're right."

"Whoa. Okay. Um…"

"We, we should l-leave."

"Yep!" They turned, but Mr. Bucket seemingly flew from his spot and landed before them so quickly they hadn't even turned completely.

"…Not so fast, buds," it said. "We're not done yet."

"I didn't even see him move," Walter said frightfully, and he and Jasper huddled together and stared on as the bucket/ghost approached. It no longer hovered at all, but it was essentially just a walking cadaver with a bucket as a head. Except now a ghastly white aura surrounded its form.

"S-So why, why d-d-did you c-come back?" Jasper asked questioned nervously, and the apparition shrugged and tilted its bucket to the side.

"…Oh, it was just to use this joke."

"What joke?"

"You'll see," it responded malevolently. "Go on, Walter, scan my power level."

Walter tapped the little gadget in his hand and after glancing at Jasper and receiving a nod of approval, strapped it to his eye so that the pink panel which would display the incoming data was over his right eye. "Okay, hold up, I just need to turn it on." Rows of informational data and figures flashed before his eye, making him squint, but soon the display ceased and Walter was able to make adjustments.

"Alright, I think I just need to press this one button…" he told Mr. Bucket, who was idling patiently. Walter pressed a few buttons and suddenly a row of digits on the bottom-right-hand corner of the panel brightened to life and began to grow rapidly in number.

"…What do you see?" Mr. Bucket asked innocently enough, and Jasper looked back.

"Y-Y-Yeah, Walt, w-w-what, what is it?"

"It's… it's…" Walter's eyes bulged in their socket and Jasper thought they might just pop out. "_IT'S OVER NINE THOUSAND_!"

**(!$#&!)**

**!?9000!?...!!!**

**(!$#&!) **

"_What_?" Jasper shouted over Mr. Bucket's chortling, and the two screamed and bolted down the remainder of the platform, heading for the escalators. Before they could get there, however, two forms exited out from them—Henry Townshend and Eileen Galvin.

"Oh no, the alternates!" Walter exclaimed. "Ugh, why do you two always show up when we're trying to escape?" He turned around and conjured a small, black sphere from his coat. "_Smoke grenade_!" he yelled, and he threw the sphere to the floor. It detonated into a thick cloud of smoke, but Walter and Jasper were once again caught in it and reduced to coughing and stumbling their way out.

"…Alternates…" Mr. Bucket walked towards them from the far end of the platform, and Townshend and Eileen brandished their weapons.

"What are you?" Townshend asked it, and Mr. Bucket shrugged.

"Don't really know, myself, but I do know what I have to do."

"And what's that?"

"I must destroy everything, simply, and, from that, I will summon a new world, a utopia, under the name of _Black Cloud of Death_!"

"The _what_?" Eileen asked, and Mr. Bucket shrugged.

"It won't matter to you very soon, because first I will destroy you!" The corpse literally exploded into a mass of jumbled tentacles, eyeballs, and other gruesome things, and the bucket reigned over all of it.

Townshend and Eileen looked up at it from their place, and they readied themselves as it charged.

**Interlude(!$&)**

Henry and Irene found themselves standing on another elongated stairwell, but the serene, evening sky was gone; now it was just pure blackness in all directions. "Let's move," Henry said, and he sprinted down the stairwell, determined to get to the next landing and impeded Walter, Jasper, or anyone else who would get in his way.

Irene chased after him lamely, and gawked at the strange attractions that were placed at regular intervals along the stairwell. A sheep. A sheep and a goat. Two sheep and a goat. Just two sheep. Then a goat. Nothing. Oh, another sheep!

Henry stopped at something very curious, and it was a hole, except this hole was just a hole, and was not connected to a tunnel. Logically, Henry would climb into it and fall through the other side, but he had a feeling that wouldn't happen.

"Wait here, Irene," he said, and she did just that as he climbed into the hole and fell, but he fell through a tunnel.

**FLUSH!**

…**Back to your program.**

Henry was bombarded with a horrible headache the moment he woke up in his bed, and, grumbling furiously, he hurried over to the kitchen area to find some aspirin, and he normally kept it stowed away in one of the cupboards. However, he was awestruck at what he saw now.

Three ghosts, all of them stuck halfway through the wall, were conversing and munching on the cupcakes Henry had left accidentally on the couch. "What the hell…" he muttered, and then, "_GET THESE MOTHER$#!&$#! GHOSTS OUT OF MY MOTHER$#!&$#! APARTMENT_!"

**To be continued…**


	9. The Bucket, the Girl, and the Doll

**Silent Hill 4: The Not-So Parody(The Bucket, the Girl, and the Doll)**

Infuriated, humiliated, and just downright shocked, Henry slammed his fist on the kitchen countertop. "What the hell is _this_?" The three ghosts looked in his direction, and Henry recognized the one with a half-chewed cupcake in its mouth—it was the same ghost that he had encountered in the apartment in the city.

"Oh, this is _your_ apartment?" it asked oh-so-innocently, and the other two giggled like schoolgirls.

"You bet your ass this is my apartment! You can't just go cramming yourselves through my walls whenever you feel like it! Do you have any idea how much I pay to keep this place up-and-running?"

One of the ghosts was disregarding Henry and had shifted its position so that it was over his stereo. "Hey, man, you have a tape in here…" Before Henry could protest, the ghost switched the stereo on and the cassette began to play.

There was little more than white noise at first, and then a voice, accompanied by some moaning…

_"Ooh… that feels so good…! Oh yes, oh yes!"_

_"Shut the hell up, you queer!"_ Richard.

_"God, he's _enjoying_ it!"_ Henry knew this to be the artist.

_"Well he won't be!"_ Richard again, and very forceful. There was a crash, a smack, and then a cry.

_"…Hey, I can use that for my cat…"_

_"Freaking hell, Richie, you didn't have to rip it off."_

_"It's _Richard_, you smartass punk. And I didn't rip it off. I _tore _it off."_

_"Whatever, I don't care. Just put it away."_

_"Hey, he's getting away!"_

_"It doesn't matter, just don't let Frank find him or we'll be in some deep shit." _Schoolgirl giggling.

_"I'll just wrap this up in that shirt… God, it's so disgusting… Wonder how many times he played with it… Hey, it's that kid with the sock on his head!"_

"_What? Hey, it is! Get him! The little squirt probably heard what we were doing!"_

_"You little punk, don't you show your face around here again, you hear me? I'll break your balls, you freak, you hear me! I'll _break your balls_."_

The tape cut off at this point, and one of the ghosts giggled. "He said he'd break his balls!"

The apartment ghost blinked in surprise. "What the heck, man? Who listens to porn on their radio? That's _so_ two years ago."

"That wasn't porn!" Henry retorted, and he hefted the sword he found at the subway. "Now the three of you better get out of here before I cut your heads off!" One of them laughed.

"You wouldn't do that!" Henry gritted his teeth, rushed forward, and decapitated the ghost. Its head flew off, hit the wall, and rolled onto the carpet. The ghost's body sunk back through the wall, and the other two did the same, but not without stealing some more of Henry's cupcakes.

Henry allowed his breathing to slow before nudging at the ghost's head with his foot. "Well, the sword works, that's for sure, but… what the hell am I going to do with this?" Carefully, he tipped the head over and stabbed the exposed flesh of its neck with the tip of the blade. Making sure it was secure, he walked over to the refrigerator, and, keeping a good two feet between him and the head the entire time, opened up the freezer and stuck the head into there.

'That was disgusting. But not any worse than Cynthia.' Cringing, he turned on the kitchen faucet in order to wash his hands and cleanse them of the ghost's vile germs. There was only one problem. It wasn't water that flowed out, but blood.

"Why is there… cherry-flavored punch coming from my faucet…?" Henry wondered aloud. And then he remembered.

"_Frank, what in the blue-pimple-on-Satan's-ass is this?" Henry is referring to the stream of bright red liquid that is flowing out of his kitchen faucet. The superintendent shakes his head sadly._

_"I thought this problem had already been fixed, but I guess not. The queer who lived here before you said I got it fixed. Said something about using some weird medallion to snuff it out one of the times I caught him running through the front entrance covered in blood and screaming about some guy named Willy." Frank purses his lips. "You can't even rely on demonic powers to get rid of your plumbing problems. Just like that no-good son of mine."_

_"Well, yeah, and it's the same with the toilet," Henry says while gesturing back at his restroom. "But, whatever. What I want to know is, why is punch even coming out?"_

_"Oh, it's because we share this property with a punch-facilitating plant," Frank answered casually._

_"Punch-facilitating plant?" Henry narrows his eyes suspiciously. "Are you lying to me, Frank?"_

_"No, of course not. It's outside—look out the window if you don't believe me." Henry cocks an eyebrow and walks over to the window. He peers out and sees it clear-as-day. **BOONY'S PUNCH PLANT**, standing right next to North Ashfield Heights._

_"Oh, shit. I never even noticed that before."_

_"Happens with a lot of new tenants." Frank chuckles. "I tell you, back in the day, me and my old chum Jim would go out and sneak free samples of the punch. He'd scold me afterwards, how I convinced him, again, to do it, but in his heart-of-hearts he knew he enjoyed it. Oh, poor Jim. Let me tell you, once, when went to that Silent Hill place for business—,"_

_"Look, I don't give a furry shit, okay?" Henry says quickly. "I keep telling you about my toilet, but you don't listen. I want it fixed."_

_"Alright, alright, simmer down. Let's go see what the problem is…"_

_The two of them walk into the bathroom and nearly run back into the hallway. Irene, naked, is frolicking in Henry's shower, with the curtain thrown to the floor, and is singing under all of the punch, "HAPPYBUNNYHAPPYBUNNYHAPPYBUNNYHAPPYBUNNYHAPPYBUNNY!"_

_"What… the _fuck_… is _this_?" Henry breathes, horribly shocked. In fact, he was so shocked, I neglected to censor a certain word that you most likely noticed. This story may have a high rating, but even _I _have tastes, believe-it-or-not._

_Frank slaps his forehead in exasperation. "Confound it, Irene, not again! She did this before, back when the problem happened in Rich, uh, Richard's apartment."_

_"Oh, I think I saw that from my window…"_

_"Come on, Irene! Turn off the shower, Henry. I'll get the plumber up here later on today…" Henry turned it off and Frank guided Irene out. She laughed and laughed stupidly as he gathered up her clothes and escorted her back to her apartment, leaving Henry horribly awestruck._

Henry switched the faucet off, trying his hardest to rid the image of Irene's punch-soaked, naked body(:3 yum) from his mind. He gave himself several moments to try and clear his head, and once he did, he returned to the hole.

**HAPPYBUNNYHAPPYBUNNYHAPPYBUNNY**

Henry appeared back on the stairwell, and suddenly saw Irene riding one of the goats. "Come on, Henry, this is _fun_!" Henry felt suddenly queasy, and he leaned over the edge of the stairwell and puked into the abyss below.

He wiped away some of the slime with his monkey-stuff-crusted sleeve, realized, and spat out as much as he could. He needed a damn shower. Finally, he joined Irene at the base of the stairwell, and, once again, a sign greeted them.

**WELCOME TO FOREST WORLD, HENRY AND IRENE! HAVING FUN YET? LOL**, it read, and Henry gritted his teeth. "Oh no," he said slyly, "the fun is only beginning." He burst into a fit of maniacal laughter before accompanying Irene through the Chibi-adorned door.

They walked right into a dirt cemetery, with a plethora of stars blinking over them. "I can smell them," Henry said, "and their stench is strong. They're not far." He walked forward, and, near a lit flame, found a torch. "Oh, _shit_," Henry said excitedly. "I'm dual-wielding now, mother#$!ers!"

Irene was oddly silent, and they went on into the depths of the forest. As they passed through, Walter and Jasper peeked up from inside some bushes, both of them covered in twigs and leaves.

"Stupid Mr. Bucket," Walter said. "We missed the elevator because of him, and we had to take the slide with all those weird-weird ghosts." Jasper ceased digging into his right nostril.

"S-So, what, what do we, uh, do now?"

"I don't know. I think we should just follow them until we come up with a plan." They sunk back into the bush, rose with the bush, and scurried along up the path, out-of-sight from Henry and Irene in the fog.

Eventually, Henry and his bimbo-tastic companion arrived at the orphanage site, only now there was only a heap of smoldering granite and wood. "Stupid arsonists," Henry remarked. "Never know when to quit with their orphanage fires." Henry completely missed the point that Jasper had been aflame inside the building, and that it could easily spread, but, anyway, the two of them approached the remains of Happy House and saw a strange, burnt mannequin with a bucket as a head sitting in a rusted wheelchair. At its feet lay a memo, which Henry picked up for inspection.

**This really cool dude named Walter came and rescued me from the house, but I was already dead, which sucks. Anyway, I decided to help the guy out, and he told me he was going after the "last two", and that "Mr. Sock tells him it'll be over soon". I don't get it, but I really have to pee right now, so I can't write for long.**

**Goodbye, Happy House. We hardly knew ye. Oh yeah. I wonder if that Henry guy is still around…**

"Jasper…" Henry crushed the memo in his hand and threw it to the winds. Irene wandered over to the mannequin and squinted at it.

"Henry!" she squealed. "There's a memo-thingy here, too!" Henry shoved her out-of-the-way and hunkered down before the mannequin to get a better look.

**To make way for the "21 Kanji", this trial has been created. I have separated my arms and legs to the far corners of this forest. Bring them back to me and the way below shall open. The way to the truth. If you are the fated Receiver of Wisdom, you will understand. Prove your worthiness. Take the Holy Flame and continue with your quest!**

"Trial my pimply ass," Henry spat, and he reared back and kicked at the mannequin, hoping to knock it over and reveal the path onward, desperate to get the hell out of this place. Unfortunately, the mannequin shook a bit, but didn't budge. Henry narrowed his eyes and examined the wheelchair, horrified to see that it was bolted down to the wood.

"They're really serious, aren't they?" He sighed and checked the mannequin's note again. "Holy Flame? What? _This_?" He glanced at the torch and saw that printed in black ink on the side of it was **Holy Flame lol**. "Well I'll be damned. Fine." He turned to Irene. "This will go a lot faster if we split up. It said the corners of the forest, so it _must_ be referring to the four corners of the forest. Am I right? I am, aren't I, you stupid doll!"

"Okey-doke, I'll go and get the dolly's body parts!" Irene exclaimed, and she ran off with her limp, heading through the nearest gate. Henry scowled and went on his way, hoping to whatever gods there were that she didn't cock this up. Not that he necessarily used "cock", though.

As they left, Walter and Jasper hopped out of the toy bin they had been hiding in. "Okay!" Walter said as he plucked an _Ultra Man _action figure from his long, tousled hair. "I've got the best plan ever, Jasp! We'll just go, take all the doll parts first, and then dump them in a fifth well out there, where they'll never be able to find them!" He laughed triumphantly, Mr. Sock remained silent, and Jasper resumed digging into his nostril, and it hurt, considering they were burned quite severely inside as well.

**BUNNYHAPPYBUNNYHAPPYBUNNYHAPPY**

Henry walked down the next path, searching high-and-low for any signs of the mannequin's limbs. Being a naturally impatient person, Henry was getting agitated fast. 'This is the shits,' he thought. 'Where are these stupid arms or whatever?'

Then, suddenly, from behind him there came a whispering. Henry spun around as quickly as ever and brandished his sword and torch, seeing something move in the fog. Out came one of those strange abominations that had harassed him in the tower, and it had its long, gnarly finger jammed in his direction. "Oh, I remember you," Henry said. "You little biotch. You just caught me at the worst time of the day!" He rushed forward and the monster barely had a moment to scream as the blade came down and decapitated its left head.

The lone head lolled its eyes around and screamed its ghastly, humanlike scream. Henry, irritated by the sound, killed it soundly. "Ha!" he said while stomping on its corpse. "Now what? Now what are you going to do? Are you going to say I'm fat, 'cause I'm not! I was, but you can't make fun of me any more, now!" He cackled, but it was cut short as innumerous figures stalked through the mist towards him. He cocked a quizzical eyebrow and saw that the creature's death cry had also served as an alert, and now the beasts were here to snuff out the disturbance.

"Oh, so now _all_ of you are going to make fun of me, is that it?" Henry chuckled, and a sadistic bloodlust filled him. "Fine then, I'll send you all to two-headed-baby-monster hell!" Shouting, he threw himself at them and attacked, ripping through them with his sword and torch. He bonked two in the head, stabbed one, avoided a swipe, killed another, and went on.

At one point, a gush of blue blood—_Customizable options are what make the world go round—_painted the left side of his face, and he roared as he skewered the last creature and flung it to the grass. "Vote for Pedro," said he, and then Henry wiped the blood off of his face, realized it was with his sleeve _again_, and cursed.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the forest…

"_I'm a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world_…" Irene lilted as she skipped clumsily through the forest. Several butterflies swarmed her, in awe of her beauty, and she patted their black wings before going on her merry way. A monkey or two tried to glomp her, but Irene was swift, and avoided them, wary of their obsessive ways, as they didn't leave her alone until she traveled through the next gate. Then, she found a man planting some seeds, and he rose up and tried to grope her, but Irene, being Irene, politely declined and then she was singing throughout the whole forest with all of its beautiful denizens and then they jumped and slid down a rainbow and found some buried treasure! "_I'M A BARBIE GIRL, IN A BARBIE WORLD!_" she sang, and it echoed through the entirety of the forest.

Walter, Jasper, and Mr. Sock heard it very clearly as they busily dropped the four mannequin limbs down the secluded well's dark belly. Walter whimpered at the chill that emanated from within the well. "I get the feeling that that Cynthia girl is going to climb up and eat my face…"

"I d-d-don't t-think so," Jasper replied, and they alerted at the sound of Irene's song.

"Oh no, it's the bimbo girl!" Walter exclaimed quietly. "Wait… _to the escape bush_!" he ordered with a point of the finger for emphasis.

"Y-Yeah, but, but where _is_ it?"

"What?" Walter looked around and saw that the "escape bush" had blended in with all of the other bushes that surrounded them. "Oh no, we have to find it!" And so, Walter and Jasper began scrambling around, hoping to find their method of escape before Irene discovered them.

---

"Shit, shit, shit…" Henry stopped near a construction mound to take a breather. He hadn't explored this area of the forest his first time, so he was a bit disoriented. Of course, it's not as if he had paid any real attention to his surroundings his first time through, but I'm sure you know what I mean.

In any case, he crossed over into the mound and saw various mining equipment strewn about. A hazy light emanated from above him in the form of a swinging lantern, and Henry glanced up at it absentmindedly as he moved on. Still no signs of any legs, arms, or anything similar. He had already killed a number of more monsters that had assaulted him along the way, and so he was slightly winded.

Shaking it off, Henry left the mound and found himself over a great ledge that overlooked a lake. Toluca Lake. The breeze hit his face and forced him into squinting. Nope, no mannequin limbs here, either. Sighing in defeat, Henry rubbed his face before walking to the railing that lined the edge of the ledge. Another flame was lit near the exit of the mound, and he glanced at the black end of his torch lazily.

"Hey."

He spun around and saw the boy from before staring at him from near a strange-looking statuette. Henry raised an eyebrow. "You're that Walter kid, right? That's your name?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess." The kid scratched his head. "Those people before called me Oswald, but that was a really gay name. Now I'm Walter."

"Okay, but what the hell are you doing here?" They began to circle each other, boy and man.

"I don't know, actually. I'm looking for my mom."

"Your mom? Oh…" Henry laughed shortly. "Sorry, but you probably won't be seeing her after what we did last night!" He burst into a cackle and Walter frowned.

"Dude, you suck."

"Shut up," Henry replied quickly before brushing away some stray strands of hair. "_Anyway_, so you're looking for your mom? Why? Is she here?"

"No, but she's close. She's in Room 203. Mr. Sock's told me everything I need to know. I've been looking for her for a long time… but I'll find her soon, I think. Before the "leet-ness" takes over, anyway…" He shuffled around the statuette and sighed. "Well, I got a go. Mom's waiting."

"Hey, hold on!" Henry called after him, but the kid was fast and vanished back through the compound. Henry cursed and kicked at the statuette, succeeding only in stubbing his toe. As he held his foot, however, a crest of some sort fell from atop the monument. Henry snatched it up and hoisted an eyebrow at it. A huge, Chibi happy face had painted over its front in red. "Great, another stupid otaku thing… It couldn't have just been there for a reason, though… Whatever…" Henry stowed it away in his pants and returned to the compound, hoping to find the mannequin limbs that seemed to elude him at every turn.

As he trudged deeper into the forest, his eyes wandered over how everything seemed so drab. "God, I need a drink… where's that stupid ghost with the beanie? He usually has _something_…" And then Henry tripped and fell over. He grumbled and turned over to see what had fell him, but unlike his encounter with Irene's purse, he didn't immediately shoot at it. Mostly because he could hardly even _see_ it. He squinted and reached for it. A bullet. A _silver _bullet.

"What's this? Some type of bullet?" On the side was an inscription in black, similar to the sword. **SPECIAL HAPPY ROUND #2**

"I think this'll work in the pistol…" Henry shrugged and turned. "Whatever. That bimbo Irene had better have found _something_ worthwhile…"

But the return trip proved to be quite trying for Henry. Monsters flocked to him, he tripped over innumerous roots and such, and he could never get a breather. "Stupid, _stupid_, _STUPID_!" Henry rampaged through the forest, while, meanwhile, Irene giggled and peered into a well and decided to dive in, while Walter, Jasper, and Mr. Sock watched in horror, terrified of what would conspire if she discovered them in their new hiding place: behind a tree. Of course, Mr. Sock was not frightened at all, in fact, he was mildly bemused by his pawns' imbecilic behavior. Oh well.

---

Henry stumbled through the gate and arrived back at the orphanage site, drained and weary, with only an odd bullet and a crest to show for it. As he rested against the fencing, Irene happily bound through the opposite gate, her arms filled with a jumbled mess of ghastly white limbs. "_Henry_!" she chirped. "_All of the leggy-things were in the same well_!"

"...You've got to be kidding me…" the brunet murmured before collapsing to the grass. Irene giggled and trotted towards him, spilling an arm and a leg as she went. After a moment, Henry got to his feet and sighed. "Right, well, whatever. Let's just hurry up and get this over with." He scooped up the fallen limbs and the two of them walked up to the mannequin, which was in the exact same position as before. Frowning, Henry screwed in the limbs he had first, and then did the ones Irene handed to him. Content, he backed away and waited impatiently for the mannequin to move.

"We're waiting, damn it," Henry said as the wheelchair suddenly rolled back. "Huh? I swear that thing was bolted down before…" The mannequin flew up out of the wheelchair and left it to topple over onto the burnt wood.

"Henry Townsend and Irene Galvin! Welcome!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Henry responded as the mannequin's entire body exploded, revealing the form of the beanie ghost, aside from the fact that the bucket was still present as a head. The strange creature landed on top of the wheelchair and sat on it, its legs crossed.

"…I've been waiting for you two," it stated. "Your alternates managed to escape, and although I haven't seen them since hijacking Walter's elevator, I'm sure they are around here somewhere. Of course, they aren't who's important. _You are_."

"What the hell are you jabbering about, bucket-head?" Henry demanded. "I'm pretty pissed right now, so if you have something to say just spit it out!" Mr. Bucket chortled from under his makeshift head.

"You two are the key. Once you have been killed, the holy power will be mine! And with it…" Mr. Bucket stood straight and rattled its bucket(:3), "I will destroy this world and the next! Such is the decree of _Black Cloud of Death_! Or _BCD_, for short."

Henry yawned. "Ask me if I give a shit."

The bucket tilted quizzically. "…Okay. Do you give a shit?"

"_I do Mr. Bucket-y-head, I do!_"

"Shut up, Irene."

"Ah, well, thank you very much, Irene."

"Mr. Bucket-y-head, can my tampon and I do you?"

"Shut up, Irene."

"I don't see why _not_, but I don't have a mouth…"

"That's okay. Little Billy from seventh grade didn't have one, either."

"Irene, _shut up_."

"…Oh, I guess, but—," Four gunshots rang out, and Mr. Bucket bowed his bucket to see four bullet holes in his chest, a tendril of blue smoke rising from the barrel of Richard's revolver.

"I wanted you to know if _I_ gave a shit, not her," Henry said, "and let me reiterate: shove your stupid ideologies up your bucket-y-ass, whoever the hell you are, and get _out of my way_."

"Hmm… What a shame," Mr. Bucket replied. "I was hoping we could come to a compromise, but maybe not, after all… considering I _do_ have to kill you!" With frightening speed it leaped into the air, swinging one of its arms at Henry, which whipped out as a tentacle as it went. Henry, not prepared in the least for this, was smacked and sent flying into the fencing, right next to a flame. He landed on his rear, winced, and gingerly rubbed the side of his face.

"Dude, you just _biotch-slapped me_!" Mr. Bucket was already rushing at him again though, and he jumped up and sent another tentacle for Henry's head. The brunet rolled out of the way, and, thinking quickly, stuck his torch into the flame. It lit instantly, and while Mr. Bucket prepared for another attack, Henry lunged and caught the bucket-y-entity with his torch, setting it ablaze. The unearthly abomination screamed shrilly and rose into the air, writhing furiously as its ghastly host body was burned undead.

"Ha, who gives a shit _now_, biotch?" Henry taunted. "How do like them oranges?"

"…It's 'apples', Henry…" Irene corrected, and the man shot her a nasty glare.

"Just shut up, Irene."

However, as the horrible bucket ghost writhed in the air, it also began to _change_. The fire ate away at its outer skin, and as it did, it revealed a strange, black _under_ skin, which was now beginning to spread. Mr. Bucket's host body exploded outward suddenly, throwing fire and light every which way. It grew to massive proportions, becoming a giant mass of oblong arms, eyes, tentacles, and such, all with a bucket on its head.

"_Welcome_!" it roared. "_Welcome to your oblivion_!"

"Round two, I guess," Henry remarked with a grin. "Fine, you ugly son-of-a-biotch. I guess I'm going to have to kick your ass in order to get to Walter and Jasper." He hefted the torch, which was still lit. "Eat this!" Henry launched the torch at him, but a tendril quickly snapped out, caught the branch, and broke it in two with ease. Henry frowned.

"Ah, shit." Henry busted out of there, running as fast as he could, but he couldn't even reach the nearest gate, as Mr. Bucket scooped him up in one of his giant appendages(:3) and Henry moaned fearfully as he dropped both Richard's revolver and his sword to the ground below.

"Irene, _Irene_!" he cried, "A little help here!"

The woman only cocked her head at him before bursting into giggles. "Henry, you naughty boy, why are you rubbing Mr. Bucket-y-head that way?"

"I'm not 'rubbing' him!" Henry shouted. "_I'm trying to wrestle his grip off of me_!" Alas, Mr. Bucket's tentacle had a very tight grip on Henry, and it was becoming even tighter as he struggled. A giant, gaping hole formed in the center of Mr. Bucket's gruesome form, and Henry stared into its blackness with unease. "Oh, _shit_…" he breathed. "_HE'S GOING TO EAT ME, HOLY SHIT_!_ IRENE, HELP_! _HELP_!"

"…What?" Irene said, having not entirely comprehended what exactly was taking place before her very eyes.

Henry whimpered and whimpered again, his eyes growing wide as the tentacle dragged him into Mr. Bucket's dark depths(:3). And then Mr. Bucket's tentacle wavered. Henry saw a red blur strike the horrendous creature in the side, throwing forth black gore. Henry fell ungracefully onto the grass, groaning as he reached for his weapons. The appendage that had held him collapsed with a thump beside him, nearly startling his brains out. "_Don't do that_!" he yelled, and he turned to see Mr. Bucket's giant gelatin-like form slink back towards the fencing and over it.

"_This is not over_!Black Cloud of Death_ will triumph still_!"

As it escaped and left a trail of green sludge in its wake, Henry Townshend and Eileen Galvin turned to their alternates. "Are you two all right?" Townshend asked, and Irene nodded fervently.

"Yes, but have you two seen my tampon? I miss it…"

"Why did you save us?" Henry spat as he got up. "You're otaku! We are destined enemies!"

"Look," Eileen said while facing him, "I'm not even sure what an 'otaku' _is_, but I'm telling you, we're not one of them. Henry and I just saved you, so maybe you could show some more gratitude, you know?"

"It's okay, Eileen," Townshend told her, and he walked past her. "We don't have much time, left anyway. We have to keep moving, before he gets here." She nodded and they approached the secret hatch Mr. Bucket had been guarding. They flipped it up and dropped through.

"Get back here!" Henry yelled, but he and Irene were left alone on the cold battlefield without a second glance. "This sucks," he said while rising. "Freaking saved by the otaku, damn it!" Henry stomped his foot on the wood angrily and almost slipped through as it gave way. He let out a sigh of relief when it didn't, though, however, and climbed out of the small hole he created. Irene joined him and they went on.

Townshend and Eileen had vanished by the time they reached the altar room that lay beneath Happy House. It was shabby, but three things caught Henry's eye: another sword very similar to the one he held, a volume that lay on the altar, and a door. He picked up the volume first, blew off some dust, and began to read…

**The First Sign, and God said:**

"**Seek out thy holy Son and bless him,**

**Through him the Sock shall flower,**

**And ring the bell to Paradise."**

**The Second Sign, and God said:**

"**Take thy Sock and bless it with the blood of thee ten virgins,**

**Secede thy life for thy Sock and surrender thy mortality,**

**For thy Sock shall up thee way to Paradise."**

**The Final Sign, and God said:**

"**Open up the gates to Oblivion and wallow in thy Despair,**

**Be swayed by the Tempter and consumed by the Procrastinator,**

**Defend thyself from thee Abuser, and fade into thee Fluffy,**

**For once thee Mother and Receiver are slain,**

**Thee Black Cloud of Death shall reign supreme and guide all to thee Paradise which lies at the very edge of thee Abyss."**

"Eh, more pointless crap about some socks," Henry remarked as he lobbed the book behind him and nailed Irene in the face, completely disregarding the blatant reference of importance at the bottom of the page.

Next, Henry took hold of the sword and saw that it was identical to the other, save for the inscription on the blade. **SWORD OF GLUTTONY, GREED, AND SLOTH**. And, on the respective tag: **Number 4 of 5; collect them all!**

"Sure, sure," Henry said, "and I have a MySpace." He ripped the tag off, hefted the sword, and considered this. "Well, hell, I don't even have a computer! But, whatever! Let's go, Irene!"

"…Ow, Henry, that hurt…"

"Shut the hell up and _move_!"

---

"H-Hey, Walt, how much l-l-longer do you, do you think it'll t-take us?" Jasper asked as he, Walter, and Mr. Sock descended the long stairwell that would take them deeper into Walter's twisted otherworld. The background was different again, this time a hazy yellow. The coated blond shrugged.

"Uh, I don't know, but not much longer. I can't believe the elevator's busted, though…" He winced as the bitter wind scratched at his face, and above them, climbing down the elevator's rail, was Mr. Bucket.

Meanwhile, Frank was busy munching on some curly fries from his _Happy Burger_ meal and watching some music videos on his custom-personal-computer.

**To be continued…**


	10. Of Life and Death

**Silent Hill 4: The Not-So Parody-(Of Life and Death)**

Henry climbed out of the hole in the laundry room and rubbed his sore neck. He'd left Irene alone back on the stairwell in order to drop off one of the two swords he was carrying, and a few other little trinkets. The small, blue stone in his pocket still hummed dully, but since it wasn't really near Henry's crotch he wouldn't take any notice. He managed his inventory, decided to keep the sword he had discovered below Happy House with him, and was about to leave when he turned to the front door of Room 203.

"What _now_?" he asked exasperatedly, for there was a trail of more fruit punch running from the peephole. Henry stalked up to the door and looked out, only to see a girl scout on the other side.

She was the cutest little thing, with freckles and red ponytails and maybe a really mousy voice. Yeah, she had that, too.

"Um, I'm selling cookies." She rang the doorbell again, for Henry hadn't noticed her do it before. He scowled.

"I don't eat cookies, you little biotch! Get the hell off of my property!"

"Hello?"

"Leave!"

"Uh…"

"You're just as bad as Irene… oh, what the hell." Henry reached for the Post-It notes he left on the kitchen counter, took a pen, and scribbled a message quickly: **Leave in front of door**. He reached into his pocket, withdrew several dollar bills, and cupped them with the Post-It note. He slipped them both under the door and then noted the red page also sticking out.

The girl scout didn't seem to realize what he was doing at first, but then felt something brush up against her shoe. She reached down and picked up the money and note. After reading it, she frowned. "Someone might steal the cookies, sir…"

"I don't give a shit, just leave them!" He snatched up Joe's latest crimson memo and returned to the hole.

"…But, sir…" the girl squeaked. "You're short two dollars…"

**HUUUUUUM… Intermission.**

**Now returning to your program.**

A blistering wind rose from the depths of the stairwell, and Henry shielded his face as he joined Irene who was running around in-a-circle. "Irene, stop acting less stupid and get over here," he commanded flatly, and she frowned and went over to him.

"What is it, Henry…? Did you find my tampon…?"

"No. But I do have this. It's from Joe."

"…Who…?"

Henry sighed tiredly. "Who do you _think_, biotch? _Joe_! The guy who lived in Room 203 before me!"

"Oh yeah," Irene said before laughing stupidly. Ignoring her as best he could, Henry brought his gaze to the memo.

**I… don't think this is a practical joke anymore… **

**I haven't felt like eating or sleeping or doing anything, actually. I think I'm losing what makes me human… What do you call that again? Hold on, I'll check my dictionary. Oh yeah, your "humanity". lol**

**Well, I don't know what's going on, but I think I may have an idea. Walter so-and-so didn't make this CRAAAZY place, his sock did. I think he's going to use the sock to change this place into his fabled "Happy Place". If that's true, all he has to do is kill all twenty-one people, and I think he's getting close… There was something on the news about a person being found dead with '1421' written on their back with purple ink. I'm pretty spooked, to tell you the truth.**

**Anyway… the apartment's been getting hazier and hazier. It must have something to do with all this CRAAAZINESS. TTYL-Joe S**

"Doesn't make any sense… eh, whatever." Henry crumpled up the memo and threw it so that it conked Irene in the head. "Let's go." And so they departed to the base of the stairwell, where a door in the ground—Chibi-marked, of course—greeted them.

In the dirt just slightly above it was written, **WATER PRISON WORLD—CAN YOU DIG IT?**

"Yeah, whatever." Henry groaned and crouched down before the door. "Let's get this show on the road!" He swung it open and revealed a small, dingy, gray room. He jumped down and Irene followed.

They landed in the room, barely avoiding the great pillar in the center. Circling it, Henry saw that there was a door that led into the pillar, and he opened it. "Irene, could you go in and see what's in here?"

"…Uh, okay…" She wandered inside and, judging it was safe, Henry joined her.

"Okay, so—,"

The shaft shook and suddenly they were plummeting, the pillar's room turning out to be some sort of elevator. Their makeshift ride skidded and thumbed against its rusted, metallic channel of travel. Irene screamed joyously, laughing crazily, while Henry was wide-eyed, staring down at the tower as it speedily lanced up to greet them. He screamed too, just not in any type of feasible joy, and their transport collided with the top of Happy Tower before bursting through with so much inertia that they were not slowed down at all. They crashed through the tower, level after level, until they hit rock bottom and the transport exploded into the decrepit shower room, knocking some pipes out and bringing forth an onslaught of grimy water.

Irene skipped out, laughing and laughing, and she was soon followed by Henry, who grasped his stomach nauseatingly. "Goddamn motion sickness…" he muttered, and then he puked, his vomit spilling out onto the floor and mixing in with the ever-increasing pool of dirty water that was forming around them.

"Shit… Irene, we have to get out of here…"

"I'm a strawberry…!"

"Damn it, Irene!" Henry forced himself to his feet and shoved Irene out of the room before lurching out himself and slamming the rickety metal door shut. Soon, the force of the water would blow the door out, and already it was beginning to seep out of the cracks. "We have to move!" he yelled, and he grabbed Irene and made for the double-doors down the hall, which would take them to the interior stairwell of the tower. They burst through and Henry raced upwards, dragging Irene, who was having the time of her life, with him.

Finally, they made it to the room with the hole, which would lead them to the exterior stairwell. Henry stumbled to the wall and slumped down against it. "Damn, the fun just never freaking stops around here, does it?"

Irene, who was busy adjusting her nurse's cap(which had a great big pink heart painted on it), answered, "Nope."

Henry groaned for the umpteenth time and looked up to see that a note was hanging over his head, in the exact same spot the previous one had been. 'Not again…' he thought, and reached for it.

**Wow, this sucks. That stupid intern had to get fried down at the "Weed Room", and now I have to clean up his shit. Fuck. Fuckitty-fuck-fuck. I'm not in a good mood. The code isn't even that hard to put in, but he cocked it up! Wonderful! ARRRGGGHHH!**

**Plus, he screwed up the generator down below. The whole tower's screwed. I have to restart it, but in order to do that I have to get the power back on, so I have to go fix the sluice gates and then open them… Some dope head couldn't open them right. It must've been the intern. AND HE HAD TO ALIGN ALL ROOMS! It'll take forever to rearrange them! HE COULDN'T EVEN TAKE THE STAIRS!**

"The sluice gates…?" Henry whispered. "Not again…" He hung his head low and Irene giggled.

---

"Holy cow, they really did a number on the elevator-thingamajig," Walter commented as he, Jasper, and Mr. Sock appraised the damage from their place on the roof of the tower. The transport cylinder had been ruptured, and pieces of metal were scattered across the entire circular area of the roof.

"B-B-But, it, uh, means they're h-here, r-r-r-right?" Jasper queried, and Walter nodded.

"Yep. They, like, got here before us, though…" He sighed and wandered around the shaft as Jasper dawdled at the edge of the roof. Henry and Irene sure did have a way of eluding them, it seemed. Walter didn't doubt Mr. Sock's plans, but they had yet to have a successful confrontation with the duo, and he was worried that they could possibly cock the whole ritual up, despite Mr. Sock's reassurances that they were just lucky and that everything would work out in the end.

He ran his free left hand through his long, greasy hair and spotted something shiny and blue sticking out of the wreckage. He took it into his hand and saw that it was some sort of music player, with the earplugs still connected. "…This is cool…" he muttered, and he thumbed through the selection of songs aimlessly until finding one that truly piqued his interest. "Hey, Jasp, look what I found!" He took the earplugs, fixed them in, and pressed 'PLAY'. He heard the instrumentals, and soon his eyes began to water.

"W-W-What is it?" Jasper asked with mild interest, but Walter was already singing along.

"_My life is dandy…_ _My love is great… I saw an angel, of that I'm sure... Shem smiled at_—,"

"_..me on the metro, she was with another man, but I won't lose any_—," Jasper continued,

"_…sleep on that, 'cause I've got a plan…_" Walter finished, and their eyes both widened in sudden awe.

"_You're wondrous!_" they sang together in chorus. _"You're wondrous! You're wondrous, oh yes, it's true! I saw your face, in a crowded place, and I don't know what to do, because I'll never be with you… La-la-la… La-la-la… La-la-la-la…!_

"_You're wondrous! You're wondrous! You're wondrous, oh yes, it's true! There must be an angel, with a smile on her face, when she thought up that I should be with you_!"

The two of them stopped for a moment, gathered their bearings, and turned to one another. "_…But it's time to face the cold truth… I will never be with you…_" they finished in unison, letting the final verse hang in the air.

---

"Did you hear that, Irene? _Did you_?" Henry shouted as he jogged up the exterior stairwell of the tower, the cold winds biting at his face. "That song… That godforsaken song… Jonathan Sun… Did you hear it? You had to have! It came from the top, _it came from the top_!"

And so, Henry ran with all the speed he could muster, hoping to get to the top before whoever was singing that accursed song could escape. Moths assaulted him from all sides, but he swatted them away with his sword and kept going. Irene was lagging behind him.

"Henry, my leg hurts!"

"_SHUTUPIRENE_!"

"Henry…!"

"_SHUTUPIRENE_!"

He hurried up a nearby ladder, and as he scrambled up it Irene decided to take a breather. Our hero finally reached the top of the tower, and was dismayed to see that no one was present. "Damn it, Irene! This is all your fault!"

"Henry… I can't climb up the ladder…"

"Shove it up your ass, you useless bimbo!" Henry screamed in retort, too frustrated to think clearly. Running a hand through his hair, he propped himself up against the wreckage and sighed. "I need a goddamn drink…"

Irene finally clambered up onto the roof and Henry recalled what the memo from before had said. Sluggishly, he turned to the valve that controlled the sluice gates. "Shit. Have to turn this bastard again…" Henry tapped his chin thoughtfully and glanced at Irene, who was sucking on her gloved thumb stupidly.

'Nope, she's too stupid, and I doubt she could even turn this thing anyway…' A dilemma. Before, Walter had been there to provide Henry with the necessary aid to turn the valve, but without him there was no hope. Then his eye caught something.

There was a panel above the valve, built into the wall. It had managed to escape destruction at the hands of the transport, and there was another memo clinging to it, which Henry peeled off and read.

**Shit. Shitty-shit-SHIT. THE STUPID WARDEN COULDN'T HAVE JUST LUBRICATED THE GODDAMN VALVE, COULD HE?!?! NOW I HAVE TO DO THIS STUPID BLOCK PUZZLE TO OPEN THE DAMN GATES! SCREW IT! SCREW IT ALL! I'VE HAD IT WITH THIS SHIT! I'M QUITTING THIS DAMN JOB AND GOING TO WORK AT THE BAR LIKE EVERY OTHER DOPEY SHITHEAD DOES! THANKYOUVERYMUCH!**

"Block puzzle…?" Henry moaned. His eyes lit up in silent horror. "No, _no_!" Irene licked her index finger. "Damn it…" Slouching, Henry approached the panel and inspected it.

There were three columns of colors: red, yellow, and blue. In each column there were present five squares, yet all of the squares were scrambled and out-of-order. It was painfully obvious, even to Henry, that one had to line up the squares perfectly via their respective colors. It wasn't so much a block puzzle as it was one of those unscrambling-picture puzzles. Henry hated those more than block puzzles.

"Alright, well, not going to get anywhere by just standing here… might as well start…" And he did.

---

Meanwhile, Walter, Jasper, and Mr. Sock were wandering through the dark depths of Happy Tower. "S-So, in order to g-g-get to the next l-level, we have to open up the b-b-basement, basement d-door, right? But that's, um, locked?"

"Yep," Walter answered cheerily as he hopped onto another step of the stairwell. "Henry will open up the sluice gates, right, Mr. Sock?" Walter's expression solidified. "Yes," he answered monotonously, and then his gleeful smile returned.

"For now, all we have to do is go and restart the generator." Jasper nodded and they continued their descent, until they heard what sounded like horrible, bloodcurdling screams.

"W-What was that?" Jasper inquired, disconcerted. Walter shrugged slowly.

"Nawp…"

"What?"

"Nawp…"

All of a sudden the screaming grew louder, and the three of them—well, two, really—waited in horrified awe for whatever was coming to come. At last, it did.

Walter and Jasper yelped, and because their yelp startled the fat, ghastly ghost as it rounded the corner, it yelped as well. After regaining their composure a moment later, Walter chuckled.

"Oh, you're a ghost! You, um, didn't happen to hear those agonizing screams, did you? They had me and my friend _pretty_ freaked out right now."

"Screams?" The ghost, which was bald, shirtless, and wearing loose trousers, shook its head. "The only thing I heard was my singing. I've been practicing it a lot more ever since I found out I couldn't leave this place."

"Your… singing?" Walter laughed an incredibly stupid laugh while Jasper remained silent, failing to see the correlation. "Okey-doke, well, you look might familiar… I mean, those numbers on your stomach."

The ghost glanced down at the **1821** that was written on his bulging abdomen in violet ink. "Oh yes, that was there when I woke up. I don't know how they even got there."

"Beats me!" Walter answered honestly, having completely forgotten who Andrew DeSalvo was.

"Oh, well, it doesn't really matter, anyway," Andrew said. "What are you guys doing down here? This place is pretty drab. I'd much rather be eating some pie."

"Apple?"

"No, cherry."

"Oh, okay."

"W-We're, uh, going to restart the g-g-generator and, um, supply power to the tower," Jasper informed him, and Andrew nodded.

"I could take you guys down there, you know, if you want…"

"Yes, we do, and I suggest we hurry up," Mr. Sock said, his voice grave. Andrew gave him a nervous glance, but he managed a shaky smile and turned. "Okey-doke, let's go. It's not that far. You guys do know, though, that the generator won't work without the sluice gates opened, right?"

"Yes," Mr. Sock replied. "We already have someone on that, you needn't worry." And he grinned.

---

"Goddamn you!" Henry cried, bashing the panel with his fist. "I don't understand this! It's completely beyond me! This is why I hate puzzles, they stop all your progress!"

Irene was preoccupied with flopping on the ground like a fish out of water, and Henry glanced back at her, wondering faintly if she would have better luck. 'Nah, Irene's a bimbo. No brains, all bust.' He sighed, prepared to surrender and take a small break, when the intoxicating smell of fresh weed caressed his nostrils. His head lolled to the left, and he was about to float into merry bliss when he opened his eyes and saw the last person he wanted to see.

"_Cynthia_?" he yelled, flabbergasted. She raised her rather large weed for another drag.

"Looks like you're having a little trouble, Henry," she said, and he pursed his lips.

"Trouble? Don't be ridiculous. It's just a stupid little puzzle."

"The ones that were conveniently left out of the game proper?"

"Ye—Wait, what?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Cynthia said as she floated to the edge of the tower. "But if you really want to know, Henry, I've discovered that I possess the ability to _break the fourth wall_." She blew out a wisp of black smoke, and Henry frowned.

"Break the fourth wall, doesn't that mean…"

"Like how someone right now is reading our conversation as if it were some type of story, or how another is viewing it in the way they would view a movie. But I have also seen the past, the future, and even what you're about to say."

"Uh, Cynthia, that's—,"

"Completely ridiculous."

Henry cocked an eyebrow and stroked his chin. "You're starting to creep me out, Cynthia. I mean, more than you did before. But, that's not even important. What the hell are you doing—,"

"Henry!" Irene chirped. "I did it! I solved the puzzle!" Henry spun around and saw Irene hopping wildly before the panel, smiling furiously. "It was _so_ easy, Henry!"

Henry groaned and sluggishly approached her. "Are you kidding me? _You did it_? _How_? I spent at least fifteen minutes on that damned thing…"

"I don't know, I just moved the little square where it needed to go…"

The brunet waved a hand at her nonsense and looked around. "Cynthia, she's gone. The biotch escaped me again! Ah, well, whatever! Come on, Irene, we need to go and restart that generator now."

"Okay!" she squealed with a sudden burst of energy. "_Let's go_!" She grabbed Henry's arm and dashed down the exterior stairwell of the tower, running extremely fast despite her injuries.

---

"Huh… it looks like we need some type of key thing-y to get this working…" Walter said while sucking his thumb periodically. Andrew and Jasper exchanged glances.

"You've got those numbers, too," the fat one noted, and Jasper glanced down at them before shrugging.

"Y-Yeah."

"Jasp, I think we're supposed to go find this key," Walter went on, squinting at the generator and the door beyond it. Jasper joined him and he turned to the sock over his right hand. "Mr. Sock, what do you think we should do?"

Before he could respond, Andrew interjected, "Wasn't that sock on your left hand earlier?"

"I t-t-think Mr. S-Sock likes to switch a l-lot," Jasper replied as the sock answered.

"The best course of action would be to split into three parties and search for this key. Walter and I shall go one route, Jasper the other, and our guide can involuntarily go a third way."

"Involuntarily?"

"Meaning you don't have a choice," Mr. Sock said, and then his grotesque smirk changed into Walter's cheery smile. "Okey-dokey-pony, we have a plan, and Mr. Sock just gave it to us! Jasp, you check the stairwell, Andrew, you go up to the body of the tower, and Mr. Sock and I will look around here, _okay_?"

His right index finger wandered up Jasper's nostril, and Andrew began whistling. "I take that as confirmation of our plan! I shall call it… _Plan Go-Go-Go-Find-Our-Key_!" He stuck out a finger for emphasis and posed. Jasper was awestruck while Andrew started clapping stupidly like a small child.

"Good job!"

"Thank you very much! Now, let's get started!"

---

"I know that hole was around here somewhere…" Henry said as he and Irene scoured one of the rooms of the third floor of Happy Tower. Irene was busy studying the movements of one of the slugs on the wall, and Henry hunkered down to peer under the bunk. "Holy shit, what's that?" He reached in and withdrew yet another sword with a piece of paper attached to it via a single strip of tape.

**that fat blob is going to get what's coming to him. i have this super cool sword that i'm going to stick up his flabby buttocks and then i have that gun under the pillow with that weird bullet that i think is good against ghosties**

'Gun under the pillow?' Henry checked and, lo and behold, a pistol similar to his previous model was under the flat pillow, and coupled with it was a golden shell: **SPECIAL HAPPY ROUND #3**

"It's like the one I found before… I can use it with this gun." Henry loaded it in and grinned while turning to Irene. "Irene, could you hold this sword?" he asked as he stuffed the gun beside Richard's revolver in his pants.

Irene eyed him strangely, and then groped for the weapon. Henry handed the blade to her, and she nearly stumbled due to its weight. As she recovered, he inspected its inscription. **SWORD OF LUST, ENVY, AND WRATH**, and on the tag, **Number 3 of 5; collect them all!**

"I've got three-out-five now," he mused, folding his arms. "Alright, enough. Come on, Irene, let's get a move on. Walter and Jasper might be wandering around this place still."

"Okay. Hey, Henry?"

"What?"

"Have you found my tampon yet…?"

"No, Irene, I haven't. Anyway, we need to find that hole, since it's the quickest way down."

She nodded and they left the room, killing some random monsters along the way into a few of the other rooms. At last, the fourth one they checked contained the hole in the floor and Henry cheered. "Now we're playing the game! I'll jump first, and then you, Irene."

"Okay. Hey, Henry?"

"What?"

"Do you think my tampon is down there…?"

"You'll have more important things to worry about than your tampon if you don't shut that damned mouth of yours, Irene." And without further ado, he leapt, and Irene followed.

---

"I w-w-wonder where that key could be…" Jasper muttered as he floated along one of Happy Tower's dank corridors. It was completely silent, save for the occasional fall of a water droplet or a clank in the structure.

He had been on his own for about ten minutes, and he had the uncanny feeling that he was being followed. He didn't know if he actually was, of course, but there was a chill in his chest and butterflies in his gut, even though he was dead. _Something_ was here with him, and it was something different from the bucket, or Walter, or another ghost. It was a _force_.

"Um, is any, is anyone there?" he asked the darkness of the corridor, but no answer came. He was suddenly very frightened, and longed to get away, to find Walter and Andrew and get as from here as ghostly possible.

He gulped, turned, and then saw it out of the corner-of-his-eye. A floating blob of pure blackness, writhing and beginning to fill up the corridor. "W-W-_What_?"

Jasper's burst of excitement ignited him, and he combusted again, this time without anyway to douse the flames. "Oh no, _oh no_! Stay away from me!" The darkness spread around him, and he saw that it wasn't darkness at all. It was… It was…

He reached out to touch it, and then it consumed him.

---

"…Back in the "weed room"," Henry remarked, heaving his sword and noticing a shirt strewn in the center of the room where Andrew had met his end. Irene was sampling the water, and she giggled happily finding it was actually quite tasty. All those minerals, you see.

Henry picked up the shirt and saw that there was a faint message on its back, but it was impossible to read. He was pondering this when something I like to call a _deus ex machina _touched him. "If I wet this shirt, I should be able to see what it says! But not with just water… With _cherry-flavored punch_." Not even wondering where this enlightenment hailed from, Henry looked to Irene.

"Irene, we need to find a hole, and quickly!"

"Uh… what type of hole, Henry…?"

"A hole in the wall!"

"The walls have holes, too…?"

"Yeah, but only the ones in this crazy place! Come on, this is the clue we need to restart the generator, I know it is!" He rushed out of the chamber, frantically searched around, then found a hole.

**HUUUUUUM… Intermission.**

**Now returning to your program.**

Henry scrambled over to his restroom and turned the faucet on, disregarding the fact that his spare pair of shoes were parading around the apartment and leaving crimson footprints everywhere they landed.

Acting quickly, he rolled up his sleeves and turned the shower faucet on, hoping to whatever gods there were that his plumbing still sucked. It did. Punch shot out and the tub began to fill. Henry hurriedly dunked the shirt in, allowed it to soak for a moment, then turned off the shower. He pulled out the shirt and read its message.

**The key for the generator is located on the ghost. I put it there because I'm feeling rather lazy right now.**

"On the ghost? Who wrote this?" Henry looked upwards, wondering if perhaps the fates had intervened in his matters, but shrugged. "Whatever. At least I have an idea on what to do."

Feeling better, he left the restroom, but gasped as he witnessed his shoes stomping on his sofa, destroying it with fervor. "What the hell is going on here?" he demanded, and then the shoes suddenly flew in his direction. Henry ducked and the first one collided with the back wall. "Ha, missed, you bastard!" The second nailed him in the crotch.

"Damn it!" he cried as he fell to the floor. "Why are the possessed-previously-inanimate-objects always hitting me in the nuts?"

The shoes prepared for another go at him, and Henry threw himself to the chest. He flung it open and dove inside, rummaging around for something to use against the hellspawn. He saw it. The candle he had discovered earlier, it could be substituted as a bomb of sorts, no?

"Alright, you pieces of shit, eat this!" He flopped onto his back, produced a lighter from his breast pocket, lit the flame, and threw it at the shoes. Hitting both of them, they went up in a blaze, but so did the carpet. "Oh, shit!"

Henry attempted to stamp out the flames, but they spread too quickly. "Oh, screw it! He threw off his shirt, revealing his tight, sweat-stained white undershirt, and used it to blanket the flames, and soon he finished the fire.

"Close one," he said while drawing a breath. "Alright. Now…" He dumped the sword in the chest, aware he could just use the one Irene had, and entered his bedroom to grab a clean, fresh shirt. After dressing himself appropriately, Henry returned to the hole.

**HUUUUUUM… Intermission.**

**Now returning to your program.**

"Yay, Henry, you're back!" Irene exclaimed. "Did you find my tampon while you were gone?" she asked eagerly.

"No, but I know what we have to do. Give me that sword." She complied and they continued on, walking out into interior stairwell of the tower. Protruding from the flooring were writhing, gangly stems of some sort, and Henry cut them down with ease. They descended, heading for the generator room, and then they heard the most horrid of screaming.

"_What the hell is that_?" Henry shouted, but Irene gave no answer, for she had begun to scream along with the seemingly disembodied voice.

"_LALALALALA_!"

"_Irene, shut the hell up right now before I shove this sword up your ass_!"

"Okay, Henry!" She quieted down and he sighed in relief when the screaming also ceased. Andrew DeSalvo rounded the corner of the stairwell, staring at them quizzically.

"Hey, I remember you…" he murmured, and Henry blinked.

"You. You're that fat bastard, Andrew." His expression grew grim. "I won't let you cheat me out of my weed again, goddamn it!"

"Wait, hold on now! Don't be hasty!" It was useless, though, for Henry was already aiming the newly found pistol at Andrew's head.

"Let's see what this little baby can do! _I'll see you in hell, Andy boy_!" Henry pulled the trigger and the shell soared into Andrew's forehead. It was a perfect headshot. Upon making contact, the bullet lit up within a magenta aura, and then it exploded, reducing Andrew's decomposing body to nothing but cinders.

"Holy shit…" Henry muttered as he inspected the pistol and the ashes remaining in awe. "That was awesome! _Shitting overkill_! _Nine-thousand-nine-hundred-ninety-nine damage, baby_!"

As Henry went on about the awesomeness he had just witnessed, Irene staggered over to Andrew's remains. Lying in the ashes was a rusted key, which she took. "Henry, I found a key…"

"Really? I guess Andrew was the ghost the shirt was talking about!" Capering, Henry skipped down the remainder of the stairwell and Irene went after him. Soon, they found themselves in the waterwheel room, and beyond that was the generator room. They examined it from afar, and Henry saw a small slot present in the center of the mechanism. He approached it, stuck in the key, and rotated it.

The generator hummed to life, growing faster as its propellers spun to life. The lights of the tower flickered on, and Henry heard the door beyond the massive generator snap open, revealing an ominous darkness beyond.

"Alright, Irene, time to go on to the next level. You ready?"

"Yup!"

He nodded and they went on through the doorway.

---

"Jasp? Andrew? Anyone? _Woo-hoo_!" Try as he might, Walter could not find any of his companions. It had been awhile since they had split up, but he could not be sure of how long. However, as he advanced down this dark, cold corridor, he saw it—Jasper's still, lifeless corpse lying on the grating.

"Jasp!" Walter cried as he rushed over to his friend's side. He giggled. "Jasp, you silly pumpkin! What are you doing? I've been looking for you forever! Henry must've already started the generator! We can get going now! Jasp! Jasp, come on, wake up! Jasp?"

He bent closer and his lower lip trembled. "Come on, Jasper, this isn't funny… Get up…"

"He's not going to be getting up, Walter," Mr. Sock said, and the blond whimpered. "Why, why not…?" Mr. Sock sighed. "Isn't it obvious? Look closely. He's gone. Whatever life that resided within him has been stripped away."

"But… but… _how_?" Walter queried, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. "Who would do something like this, something so horrible?" His voice was barely audible, and Mr. Sock shrugged metaphorically. "Henry?"

Walter shook his head. "No. Henry wouldn't do something like this…"

"But you saw it, Walter. His hatred for you otaku, and to him, you and Jasper are nothing but mindless otaku that need to exterminated. It's not enough to destroy the otaku so much as it is to make them suffer."

"…But this is just too cruel… He must have been so scared… Jasper…"

"Then stop crying and rise. You can find Henry, take vengeance for what he has done to Jasper. I can help you, lend you my power. In fact, I can do it for you, Walter, you know that. Allow me to make Henry suffer, to punish him for what he has done."

"…Yeah… Yeah, I'll let you do it… Jasper… He didn't deserve this…"

"No, of course he didn't."

Walter's hands shook, but he removed the sock from his hand. They firmed as he stretched the sock over his head and rose, smirking smugly. He brought out a bong pipe from the innards of his coat, and dragged silently.

"Finally, I have found you!" came a screech from behind him. Mr. Sock—Walter—turned slowly, eyeing Mr. Bucket's ragged form with disinterest and what could only be boredom. "I've been on your tail for some time, Walter! You've led me right to the others! Once I rip you to shreds, I will glut on your precious meat and then that of Henry and Irene's!"

"…You amuse me, bucket. Obviously you are not the one who has desecrated Jasper Gein here. There is another party in our midst."

"Fool, that is irrelevant! Once I have attained complete power I will eliminate any interferences!"

"Complete power? You are nothing but an object that is meant to be used, just like the sock. A medium to handle the grandiose powers that are granted from the ritual. You are absolutely nothing."

Mr. Bucket growled. "_You_ are nothing, Walter! I will take great joy from killing you!" It lunged at him in a manner disturbingly similar to that of a spider, and Walter chuckled.

"As you please." His katana sailed out with deadly speed and accuracy, and Mr. Bucket never even managed to touch him. His limbs and body split into pieces, landing around Walter with sick thuds.

"…A mere flesh wound!" came the voice, and as it began to attempt to piece its body back together and regenerate, Walter kicked the bucket into the air and sliced it in half. He sheathed the sword and let the tin hit the floor.

"Pathetic toy. Now then, everything is as it should be. Nothing is left to impede me." He ginned and headed for the generator room.

**To be continued…**


	11. Redux

**Silent Hill 4: The Not-So Parody-(Redux)**

It was now so dark that Henry couldn't even see his hand in front of his face, and he was holding it in front of his face… or at least he hoped he was.

"Irene, where the hell are you?"

"I'm over here, Henry."

"Where's "here"?"

"I don't know, Henry."

"Well, shit. I don't know where my hand is. I can feel something, though."

"I feel something, too."

"Huh. It's… soft, I guess. And there's something sticking out a little…"

"That tickled!"

"Hmm. I guess I'll give it another squeeze."

"That feels funny! Stop it!"

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't know."

"Whatever. I don't want to take my hand off, because, if I do, I'll lose my spot."

"Okey-dokey, Henry."

"Yeah. I don't know what this thing is, though. It's round. It's soft. It's got a little point."

"Is it my tampon?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Aww… I miss my tampon."

"It's in a better place, Irene."

"…My tampon _died_?"

"No, I meant a better vagina."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Huh. I wish I had some light. I'll squeeze a little harder…"

"_Henry_…! Stop it!"

"Shut the hell—Hey, wait, now I feel something on my crotch. Irene, where are you?"

"Feeling the wall."

"Does the wall have a bump?"

"Uh… I think it does."

"Try to grab the bump."

"Okay!"

"Is it hard?"

"Yup!"

"Is it long?"

"Uh, no. It's kind of stumpy."

"Are you positive?"

"Yeah!"

"Whatever. Hold on, Irene."

"Okay!"

"Am I touching your hand?"

"Something is."

"Alright, well, I'm going to grab it."

"Ow-y!"

"Hey, you don't need to squeeze harder!"

"But, Henry…! _Ow_!"

"How do you like that, biotch? You squeeze harder, _I'll_ squeeze harder."

"But, Henry, I didn't even squeeze…"

"What?"

"Ow!"

"What the hell is squeezing me, then? Wait, what am _I_ squeezing?"

Suddenly, a light went on from above—a lamppost. Henry blinked, waiting for his eyes to adjust, and as he stared through the hazy darkness he saw a dreary, unhealthy hand atop his crotch. "What the hell is going on?"

"Henry, I found the light switch!" Irene exclaimed proudly, putting her good hand on her hip. Henry glanced sideways at her and then looked back at the hand, which was connected to an arm, which was attached to a cloaked bulk, with a red dot hovering within.

"What the shit is this?" Henry demanded, and the strange creature jumped away from with surprising agility, landing on the railing of the ruined stairwell, giggling crazily as it did so. Henry whipped out Richard's revolver and trained it on the entity, but it held out a hand.

"Wait, wait, wait! No need for violence _yet_, my boy!" It cackled merrily. "I am the guardian of this stairwell, the One Truth! You've been making quite the ruckus above, you know! I have many ears and many eyes, and I've heard you and your vulgarities and they are driving me _up a wall_! So, I've decided to stop you myself!"

Henry sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose in agitation. "Look, One _Turd_, I don't give a flying shit _who_ you are, you're going to let us pass! I'm not very happy right now, so don't make me kick your ass all over the place!"

"Your empty threats amuse me, boy!" the One Truth said. "Why do you insist on going on, anyway? You will find only grief and pain if you continue on the path you have taken!"

"Huh, do you think I _care_?" Henry retorted. "I've got nothing better to do, and, I figure, if I can manage to kill Walter, Jasper, and that damned sock, and I get the hell out of here and go buy a drink."

"How interesting…" The One Truth giggled and rose into the air. "Alright-y, my boy, if you are so determined to pass, let's first see if you can _keep up_!" It hopped away with great speed down the stairwell, and Henry laughed.

"Okay, you piece-of-cherry-shit, let's do it! Come on, Irene!" He grabbed her and they were off, chasing after the perplexing being as it descended. It bobbed and rolled, and Henry and Irene dashed and flew. Their chase lasted for several minutes, but, at last, the One Truth came to a stop in the air, floating above a giant, sprawling field covered with panels of varying colors, ranging from reds to purples. The field was encased by huge walls which the stairwell curved around. On each wall were three, enormous dummies of some sort, each one just a torso with arms and a head.

Henry and Irene arrived at the scene and leapt onto the field, both of them landing on separate panels on the back row. "Alright, it's time for an ass-kicking, my friend!" Henry yelled up at the One Truth, which chortled.

"Oh no, no, no, my boy! Your weapons will do you no good in our game!"

"Game?" Henry spun around, examining their surroundings as they changed. The rusted walls and sanguine-colored floor became a grassy field with a blue sky above, broken by a few fluffy, lethargic clouds. Everything seemed to increase in size by a bit, as well, at least to Henry from his vantage point.

"My eyes are so big and _cute_!" Irene squealed, and Henry turned to her and nearly fainted. She had become twice as small, her head, limbs, and body horribly disproportional. Her feet were stumps, her head larger by three times, and her eyes took up nearly the entire space. They were incredibly large and detailed, with glimmers of light and gigantic green irises. She was laughing happily, her mouth suddenly bigger, and her teeth virtually vanished.

Henry felt a giant sweat drop move down his own head, and he raised his hands to feel it, hoping to whatever gods there were—again—that the same fate had not befallen him…

He screamed.

His hands were two, round spheres, his fingers having merged together. His thumbs were still intact, but all the details of his skin had disappeared. His fingernails, veins, wrinkles, creases—they were all gone.

"We've been… _Chibi-fied_!" he shouted in absolute terror, his own oblong eyes reducing themselves to black dots. Faint, cobalt lines appeared above and under his eyes to illustrate just how stricken he was.

"Do you like it?" the One Truth cried, laughing. "Now that you've entered my domain, you will play by my rules!"

Henry gritted his teeth, and his mouth warbled over his chin. "_Your rules_? Dude, this is _fucked up_!" he hollered, a red, detached, pulsating cross appearing above his head. "Where did all my stuff go, anyway?"

"You need not worry about your inventory, my boy! I've placed them in the Items menu, which you cannot access at this point, because you have no items of which to access!" Uncontrollable laughter. "Should you manage to defeat me, however, all of your belongings will be returned to you, _free-of-charge_!"

"Defeat you? How am I supposed to do that without any weaponry? And what you just said made no sense. You put all my stuff in the "Items Menu"!"

"By playing the game, of course!" it answered, completely disregarding Henry's rebuttal.

"Game?" Henry brushed some stray hair out of his eye. "What the hell are you talking about?"

The One Truth cleared its throat, if it even had one. "What you are standing on and what I am floating over is the playing field. A grid. We are going to be playing a game of strategy, my boy! Should you succeed in making your way to me without having lost all of your HP or MP, you will have won the game and I will have no other choice than to allow you your freedom!"

Henry peered at the creature suspiciously. "And if we win, will we turn back to normal?"

"Of course! This is only the effect put on by the field, my friend, as is the pretty little backdrop of our match. Although I should warn you—,"

"Can we start already?" Henry interrupted impatiently. "I feel kind of sick looking like this."

"If you wish!" the One Truth said, and it retreated to the back of the field. Beneath it, Henry could see, was another door similar to the ones that led to the other worlds. "Let the game begin! You each have one turn to move!"

"One turn? Eh, whatever. This should be easy! I'm a master of board games!" Henry proclaimed, and he inspected the panels surrounding him. Grinning devilishly, the violet-shaded panel lit up and a menu popped up beside Henry's head reading: **Move here? (Yes) (No)**

"Yes!" Henry said, and he hopped onto the panel before placing his stumps on his hips and laughing smugly. "Ha, I've already moved one! Before long I'll be all the way to the end and you'll—," Henry could not finish, as a hole appeared below him. He glanced down in shock, an exclamation point flashing above his head to signal surprise. He fell through and appeared back on his original square.

"What, what the hell was that?"

"A trap square, my friend!" their host replied. "Purple represents a trap, and they can be much more dangerous than just stealing your turn and moving you back to your original position! They can, however, be deactivated…"

**Player 1 has 0 turns. Player 2 has been granted 1 extra turn.**

"That isn't fair!" Henry said, and Irene giggled happily while skipping straight ahead on two red panels. "So, mind explaining what the red, blue, and green squares do?" Henry inquired, irritated.

"The red panels are neutral, and do not offer any bonuses or setbacks. The blue panels are item panels, and can grant the players different bonuses. The greens are wild cards—you'll just have to find out for yourself!"

"Wonderful. Irene, don't step on the purple ones!"

"Okey-doke, Henry!"

"Now then, my friends, it's my turn!" The One Truth snapped its fingers and two of the puppets dropped down and occupied two of the panels. Henry gritted his teeth.

"Now what?"

"Just letting you waltz up here wouldn't be very interesting, now would it, my boy? That is why I have employed party members of my own, the Wall Men!"

"Oh, awesome," Henry remarked sarcastically. "Hurry up, then."

"Thank you!" The two Wall Men crawled onto the red panels directly before them.

**ENEMY TURN END. PLAYER TURN BEGIN.**

**Player 1 (Move) (Pass)**

"_Move_, confound it!" Henry said, and he stepped onto the red panel to his left. Irene's turn came up, and she moved up to the blue panel before her. She giggled as a menu popped up and conked her in the head.

**Player 2 has gained 1 extra turn**!

"Yay!" She moved again to the green square on her left, and this time a black box materialized over her head. A variety of alternating icons flashed within and began to loop, until they stopped at "**+50**".

**Player 2 has gained 50 extra HP!**

"Yippee!" Irene spun around and stuck out her good hand in a peace motion. A bright, canary nimbus formed around her head. The Wall Men advanced, this time one of them landing on a green square itself.

**Enemy 2 teleports!**

The Wall Man sunk into the panel and then reemerged at the one to Irene's right. "Irene!" Henry cried, and, noting the hint of worry in his voice, he huffed. The Wall Man smacked her and she reared back with a yelp, a "**-60**" flashing above her head.

**Player 2 has taken 60 points of damage! 90 HP remaining!**

"Damn it, Irene! What's your problem, taking damage like that? _And I'm still stuck on the freaking last row_!" As Henry screamed this, his menu appeared. He chose to move to the blue panel in front of him, and a treasure chest popped up. "Alright, now I'm making a comeback!" The lid flew up and a grenade launcher materialized in his hands. "Take this, biotch!" The column of panels leading to the Wall Man flashed, and Henry fired.

**Enemy 2 has taken 100 points of damage! Enemy 2 has been defeated!**

The Wall Man's visage faded away, and the One Truth chuckled. "Impressive, I suppose, my boy, but it will take much more to win the game. Your item has been used up, and it just so happens your companion is stunned."

"Stunned?" Henry looked and saw Irene was indeed frozen in place, a halo of stars surrounding her head. "Oh, shit."

"Oh, shit, _indeed_!" It summoned two more Wall Men to occupy two more panels, and they advanced. Henry sighed and moved to another panel, this one red. Around him were three more purple panels, and he slapped his head.

"Come on, this is ridiculous! Irene, do something!"

She rubbed her head and glanced around. "That hurt…" She pouted and stumbled onto the green one to her left, and the box reappeared, this time granting Irene a bright, golden star.

**Player 2 has acquired Invulnerability for 3 turns!**

"Why does Irene keep getting the good stuff?" Henry whined. The One Truth shrugged and two more Wall Men came down, totaling five in all. "I don't think this is fair anymore!" Henry exclaimed as all five moved, each one landing on all types of squares. One of the Wall Men was impaled by animated spikes, and two others got different bonuses. The remaining two moved up even closer, and only two rows separated them from Irene.

"Alright, time to make something happen!" Henry cried, and he moved up to a green panel. "Teleportation, biotches!" He teleported as far as he could, which was on a blue panel in Irene's row. Another treasure chest, which was a heart.

**Player 1 has acquired a Health Up! Use on Player 2?**

"Sure, why not?" A green cylinder grew around Irene and her Health Points increased to maximum. "You owe me one, Irene!"

"Okay, Henry!" Irene was overcome by giddiness and she skipped to a blue panel to her right, gaining and extra turn in the process. She then moved to another blue panel, acquiring a giant pair of metal scissors from the treasure chest. "Die, die, die!" she screamed, and violently attacked the Wall Man beside her.

The One Truth grumbled something inexplicable, and then laughed. "Funny, very funny! But I think the game is over, my boy!" It snapped its fingers and all of the Wall Men on the wall dropped down to, basically, surround our two animated heroes.

"What the hell is your problem?" Henry questioned. "Don't like losing? It doesn't make a difference how many of these punk-asses you conjure; I'm still going to kick your ass all over the place like I said!"

"Or so you say, my boy, but once all of my minions move you will no choice but to waste your turns, and then it's the end! Your friend may survive for two more turns, but eventually you will lose!"

"Right, okay, dude, if you can cheat, _so can I_," Henry stated, and he casually walked up beside Irene, much to the One Truth's extreme shock.

"You have no turns! You cannot move!"

"Yeah, and my ass is named Linda. Come on, Irene, I think it's time for... a _unison attack_!"

"Yippie! But, um, Henry… what's a unison attack?"

"_This_!" Henry grabbed the scissors out of her hand, jumped onto Irene's head, and roared, "_Super Awesome Win-Win Scissors I'm-Going-To-Kick-Your-Ass-All-Over-The-Place_! Move, Irene!" Irene ran up to the nearest Wall Man, and Henry snapped its head off before going on to the others.

"What… _are you fools doing_?" the One Truth screamed, and before long all of its myrmidons had been destroyed.

"Alright, we've reached the last row, biotch. I think it's time you gave up."

"No, my boy, I think it's time _you_ gave up! You deliberately broke my rules, and so any chance you had of winning the game is gone! I believe it's time I punished you…" It let out a deafening roar that split open the two animated humans' eardrums. The cloak exploded into tatters, revealing a giant, grotesque Wall Man as it landed on the opposite side of the field, occupying nearly the entire half.

Henry took a step back, and Irene pointed at the beast. "…_Hey, you don't have a face_!" she cried with childish glee, and the One Truth roared again.

"Enough pointless chatter! You have lost!" The monstrosity flailed its arms and Henry and Irene were batted across the field.

**Player 1 has taken extreme damage! Player 1 has lost 99 HP! Player 1 is in Critical!**

**Player 2 has taken extreme damage! Player 2 has lost 149 HP! Player 2 is in Critical!**

"What the hell? That was just one attack!" Henry yelled as he struggled to his stumps.

"Ow…" Irene mumbled as the One Truth came upon them, its head trembling violently and without pause. Henry looked up at the great creature, unaware that two newcomers had appeared on one of the landings of the stairwell.

An explosion, and one of the walls encasing the playing field crumbled in billows of smoke and fire. The One Truth's head spun around and spotted two figures above, a man and a woman. "Need some help?" she queried the other two, and Henry cheekily imitated an embarrassed Anime fall.

"Great, we're being saved by those damned otaku again!" The creature approached them, but another missile was fired in a flash of crimson. It met its target in the blink of an eye, and in the ensuing blast the One Truth's head was incinerated. Its body crumpled and began to disintegrate, as did the entire field. Henry and Irene sparkled mysteriously, and then their actual forms were restored.

"We're back to normal!" Henry commented as he looked himself over. "But where's my sword and the rest of my stuff?" His answer came as his belongings rained down around him, his guns and sword bashing him in the back of head.

Irene trotted happily up to Henry Townshend and Eileen Galvin as they descended the rest of the stairwell. "You saved us!" she said, and Townshend nodded.

"We were on our way when we heard bizarre noises coming from below, so we hurried down and it seems that we were just in time." Henry ground his teeth and walked up to them, his expression indifferent.

"We had that one in the bag; you didn't have to save us."

"It didn't seem that way from up there," Eileen responded tersely. "You could at least be a little more grateful. That's the second time we've saved you."

"Sure, thank-you-very-much," Henry said with a chuckle. "You're still otaku!" His eyes wandered over them and the rocket launcher Eileen was toting. "And where the hell did you get that?"

"Listen," Townshend said, "I don't know what your feud is with us, but I'm sure it's not as important as getting out of this place. We're obviously both in the same predicament—we could at least team up. We'll have a better chance of surviving, and you can't argue against that."

"Look, _Henry_,"—our protagonist spat the name out with vehement disgust—"it was you otaku who got me into this mess in the first place. Besides, I've done perfectly fine on my own in this funhouse, and we only have enough rations for two."

"Rations?"

"Yeah, food rations. They keep your stamina up." Henry turned to Irene. "Come on, Irene. We have bigger fish to fry." He shot a glare at the other couple. "Don't worry, though, your time will come. I'm sure you guys are heading the same way we are, anyway." He turned on his heel and shouldered his sword, but due to its weight, he was forced to carry it in a sterner manner, much to his chagrin. Irene waved farewell at the two with a smile and they departed through the next door.

Townshend sighed and inspected the crimson message that was slashed above the door: **NEXT STOP, BUILDING WORLD. HAVE A GREAT DAY!**

"That guy's an asshole," Irene said. "We're better off without him."

"…Yeah," her companion agreed, rubbing his eyes. "I just hope we're not too late."

---

A zephyr snatched up a crumpled newspaper and deposited it over the head of young Walter, who was moving down the deserted alleyway uncertainly, glancing over his shoulder every now-and-then. A light above flickered and then breathed a final breath. He hugged himself for a bit of comfort when a voice hailed him from the shadows.

"Soon, little Walter, soon." The boy faced the man as he treaded out of the shadows, the blackness clinging to his coat and khakis like the dying embers of a fire. A sock with small, black beads sewed in as makeshift eyes was strained over his head. A joint was present in his right hand, and, in the other, a rather dangerous-looking katana.

"Who are you? You're not big Walter!" the boy said, and the man smiled eerily.

"I'm a friend, Walter. You and I want the same thing, correct? You wish to see your mother—I do, as well. Once the Twenty-One Kanji has been completed, we can see her…"

The boy shuffled back and the man advanced. "What's the "Twenty-One Kanji"? I've never heard of that before."

"Yes, you have," the man named Walter said, "you just don't remember, but that's fine. I will take care of it. As for you… this city isn't the best place for children to be wandering around… Come, it's time we saw mother…" His tone growing sinister, Walter grabbed Wally by the wrist roughly and yanked him forward. The boy protested and struggled, but it was to no avail—Walter and his younger self vanished into the darkness.

---

Henry and Irene walked out into the open parking lot, the night sky apparent over their heads. The cars around them were seemingly abandoned, and Henry snorted.

"Whoop-dee-freaking-doo," he remarked, "look where we've ended up. This hellhole again."

"What are you talking about, Henry…?" Irene drawled. "Is my tampon here…?"

"Be quiet, Irene, something's coming…"

From an edge above, a dark figure dropped down, his body attached to tendrils of black lace. His body was covered in a cloud of hazy darkness, and as the figure touched down it raised its arms and stretched. The ensuing creaks and cracks made Henry cringe.

"Okay, now who the hell are you?" Henry demanded, his fists tightening. "I am severely pissed off right now, I should warn you." Irene giggled randomly at this.

"Uh, what?" The figure waved some of the black mist out of its eyes and gasped. "_You_! The stoner!"

Henry reared back in surprise. "_Richie_? Holy shit, I didn't recognize you! You're not floating like the other ghosts!"

"_Richie_!" Irene exclaimed. "You're all burnt like burnt toast!"

Richard raised a weary hand to his forehead and sighed. "What is _she_ doing here, stoner? Did she come through one of those funky holes, too?"

"No," Henry replied. "Walter owned her, that's all."

"Who's Walter?"

"The guy that killed you," Henry said grimly. "He's got this sock, and it's telling him what to do, or something like that. And worse yet, he's partnered up with the biggest ass-waste ever, Jasper. I don't know what they're up to, but I'm on a mission to kill them, since they're otaku."

Richard crossed his arms. "Biggest ass-waste ever? Are you sure you aren't referring to yourself, _stoner_? You and your people disgust me. Weren't you looking for your goddamned weed the last time you were here?"

"_No_!"

"_Yes_!"

"Shut _up_, Irene!"

"Both of you, be quiet!" Richard yelled, and Henry was forced to fume while Irene tittered stupidly. "Now, this Walter fellow is the guy with the sock? Is that what you're saying?"

"No," Henry replied. "I'm saying you're gay. _Of course_ that's what I'm saying!"

Richard stepped back and began pacing. He occasionally waved away his pesky cloud of blackness. "So, let me get this all straightened out. This Walter guy is trying to do something, and now you two are here… Then it's obvious—there's something up with the apartment! Maybe it's Room 203!"

"I don't know, Richie, that sounds _pretty_ far-fetched to me… although that Walter kid said his mom was in there…" Henry stroked his chin and peered up at the dark sky thoughtfully.

Richard stomped his foot furiously. "You goddamn stoner, I keep telling you it's Richa—," Before he could finish, his black aura sprang up and he vanished into thin air, leaving only a faint trail of hazy darkness in his wake.

"Well, _shit_," Henry said flatly. "He's gone. We're back to square one." He ran a hand through his hair in exasperation and leaned against the nearby grating. "I guess we don't have any other choice. We'll have to head into the city."

"Henry, do you think Richie knows where my tampon is?"

"He might. Come on, Irene, let's go find him."

And so the couple headed through the narrow passage that presented itself outside of the grating and arrived at a single door. Glancing at the panel of buttons beside it, Henry surmised it was an elevator. "I think that stupid bar was on the highest level… Hmm, whatever." Henry pressed the 'Up' button and the doors slid open. Henry and Irene entered and the elevator began to ascend.

After a seemingly elongated amount of time, the elevator shook to a stop and the two exited, and Henry furrowed his brow in bewilderment. "Wait a minute…"

Before them lay a great void, with only a steel catwalk connecting their side to the rest of the city. An explosion sounded in the distance, and Henry stiffened, but remained silent. He started a mild jog to the end of the catwalk, and Irene followed.

---

When Richard reappeared in a small lot outside North Ashfield Heights, he failed to notice that there was something queerly _wrong_. The air was heavier, the sky seemed smaller—there was even the vaguest aroma of perfume. Richard was much too infuriated to notice, though.

"—ard, Rich_ard_! _What don't you get about it_?" As he was huffing-and-puffing, Richard realized he was speaking to no one but the trash cans across from him. He turned, saw that he was standing at the bottom of a great catwalk, and a large golden door was set into the wall before him.

"Damn it, I did it again! This warping thing is starting to piss me off!" he growled, kicking some blades of grass into the air. He squinted at the door and saw that a cherry-red smiley face had been painted across it.

Then something alerted him. A jingle, and then another. Richard tensed and strained his ears, but there was nothing else. "What the—," Something gingerly touched his cheek, and he raised a hand to feel a thin, threadlike material pass through his fingers.

"What in the _hell_…?" And then he realized he was _surrounded_ by a mass of similar threads, and they were entrapping him. "Wait, _wait_!" he screamed, but he was suddenly completely entrapped. The mass merged together and then vanished, leaving a small figurine behind that resembled an animated Richard with two black dots as eyes and a giant smile on his face. Sticking from his head was a silver string of loops that gleamed in the overhead lights. It was swept away in the following moment.

Above, Henry Townshend and Eileen Galvin walked to the edge of the catwalk and peered down to see an empty lot. "I thought I heard a scream," Eileen said while leaning against her rocket launcher. Townshend shrugged and started to descend.

"We need to keep moving, Eileen." She nodded and went after him.

---

"_Breakdown_!" Henry decapitated the final monkey-man and kicked its corpse into a nearby wheelchair. He and Irene had entered a vast chamber containing a ring of wheelchairs, and beyond that was a single door. Irene knocked on it.

"Hello…? Is anybody home…?"

"You can open the door, Irene."

"Oh, okey-doke, Henry." She did so and they entered Bar Ashfield, only to find that it had been literally reduced to ashes.

"What the hell?" Henry demanded, stepping over to the space the bar had previously occupied. "It was that otaku chick, it must have been! She went trigger-happy and now _whatever alcohol that was here is gone_!" As he rummaged around the remnants of the bar, Irene wandered over to an object that was protruding from the rubble. She tugged on it and saw that it was the hilt of a sword.

"Henry… I found another sword…"

"What? Get out of the way!" Angrily, Henry shoved her to the side and pulled the weapon out for closer inspection. It was exactly similar to the other swords he had found, and, as was the case with the others, it had a tag hanging from the hilt and had an inscription on the blade.

**SWORD OF ARROGANCE AND HUBRIS; Number 5 of 5; collect them all!**

"That's four of these bastards…" Henry said while handing it to Irene. "The hole that was here before is gone, so we're just going to have to rough it. Come on, Irene." He moved onto the catwalk and began to descend, with Irene following. Soon, they came to the end and were faced with a giant golden door with a happy face painted across it. "Damned otaku doors… they had to have gone through here!"

Henry rushed forward and the door gave way to a blinding light. As Irene shielded her eyes from the onslaught, Henry braved forward into the unknown and found himself in the parking lot of North Ashfield Heights. The sky was pitch black, and the lone street light on the corner gave off an eerie glow.

Henry Townshend and Eileen Galvin turned at the sound of Henry's maniacal laughter, both of them just seconds away from entering the apartment building. "Ha, finally caught up to you otaku scum! Did you think I wouldn't?" He chortled again, and Eileen sighed in frustration.

"I'm getting sick of this guy, Henry," she growled, but Townshend remained silent, watching their opponent warily.

"I don't know what your problem is," Eileen yelled to him, "but we've already saved you twice! The least you can do is leave us alone! _We_ haven't been stalking you like some lunatic!"

"Oh, don't get the wrong idea," Henry said malevolently as he raised his sword. "Thanks for the help earlier, really, I'm grateful, _but_"—his smug grin turned into an expression of fury—"if you think you can just _blow up_ all the alcohol left in this godforsaken city, _you've got another thing coming_! Who's going to drink it now? _No one_, because it's _gone_!"

"Oh my God!" she gasped, slapping her forehead with her free hand in exasperation. "You're rambling about alcohol, now? Whatever, we don't have the time!" She hoisted the rocket launcher and sent a missile flying towards Henry, who expertly arched his body around the projectile and leapt over it.

"Missed, biotch!" he shouted as the missile flew up and instead annihilated the upper portion of the apartment building.

"No, I didn't," Eileen said while blowing some rogue strands of hair out of her eyes. The debris from the explosion rained down and trapped a flabbergasted Henry under a pile of smoking stone and plaster.

Townshend shook his head disappointedly and received a glare from Eileen before they left into North Ashfield Heights. Irene hobbled out into the lot. "Henry! Henry! Did they know where my tampon was?"

Her response came in the form of several muffled cries. An ashen arm jutted from the rubble, and it was followed by another arm, a head, a torso, a lower torso, and then a pair of legs. Henry yanked the sword out after him and proceeded to furiously dust himself off.

"Bastards!" he cried. "You're not getting away!" He ran for the doors and went through, but the interior of North Ashfield Heights was not what greeted him; instead, it was yet another stairwell.

"Damn it, they got away!" the brunet grumbled as Irene joined him. Sighing, he began his descent. "…Come on, Irene, no use staying here… Walter must've gotten ahead of us, anyway…"

She giggled randomly and accompanied Henry down the staircase. When they reached the end, they found a section of crumbled wall awaiting them. A door was set into it.

"What the hell?" Henry demanded, stepping forward. White flecks had begun to set themselves into his hair and clothing, and Irene gasped.

"It's snowing, Henry!"

"Yeah," he said quietly, "I noticed."

A three-digit number was present on the door: **203**

**To be continued…**


	12. Escaping unto Reality

_I told you once that Henry was experiencing a recurring nightmare, didn't I? Yes, I believe I did. It was a not-so-sexual-but-not-so-plain dream that Henry, in reality, wasn't actually a part of to begin with. It began, and continues to begin, with a scream…_

_Joseph Schreiber—or to his friends, associates, and fangirls, Joe—uttered a sharp bark and nearly fell from his bed. He blinked once, twice, and after realizing he had not urinated in his pants, breathed a sigh of relief and stood up._

_If there was one thing Joseph expected to see, it was his bedroom covered in tomato paste and red crayon scribbles. Much to his bewilderment, this was not the case, despite him having gone through the hole and having left the room in such a condition. He reached for his head to tilt his bowler cap, recalled that it had fallen after a heated chase between him and a pack of hounds, and stole another glance at the bedroom. It was sparkling clean, void of any unhealthy black patches, "ghombies", or dust particles, amazingly. Whistling quietly, Joseph left the room and walked into the den._

_Here, it was the same, as if a whirlwind had spiraled through the apartment and whisked away all of the tomato sauce. He treaded forward and snatched up a pack of papers that sat upon the coffee table, a pack of papers that was queerly familiar to him._

**Once upon a time, the Holy Queen of Happiness gave birth to a Son.**

**The Son was always connected to the Holy Queen by a magical string of happy thoughts.**

**All the residents of Happy Place were very happy for their Queen.**

**But one day, a very dreadful plague struck Happy Place.**

**This sickness was called Sadness.**

**The residents of Happy Place were suddenly filled with gloom and despair,**

**And they began to think negative thoughts.**

**Most horrible of all, the Holy Queen was stricken gravely ill by the disease,**

**For all of her people were suffering, and thus she was sad.**

**But the happy Son did not understand what was wrong.**

**Soon, there no more happy thoughts to sustain the magical string,**

**And the Son and Holy Queen were separated.**

**The Son was very sad that his Mother was gone, so he desired to help her,**

**But, alas, the Holy Queen succumbed to her illness, and Happy Place became truly sad.**

**The Holy Queen, however, had told her people she would one day return,**

**To grant them their salvation, so the people believed her.**

**But the Son went far, far away,**

**Where he found a magical Sock.**

**The Sock told the Son he would be able to be with his Mother again,**

**But he would have to help twenty-one people,**

**So that the Sock could be filled with enough happiness to share it with everyone.**

**So the Son went off on his journey, whilst—**

_Joseph dropped the papers, gasping in shock as his apartment was suddenly overtaken by tomato sauce. Before his very eyes, the substance meshed into a message on the wall, reading, "Sucker!"_

_"Nut-bunnies," Joseph cursed, turning back to find an escape in the hole. However, behind him, the word disappeared in a swirling black void from which came forth a most gruesome entity._

_"Willy!" the journalist cried out, flabbergasted at the "ghombie"'s penetration of the wall. "Willy, you silly goose!" Nevertheless, the ghost took hold of Joseph and the man let out a horrible scream…_

**Now then, where were we?**

…

**Silent Hill 4: The Not-So Parody****-(Escaping unto Reality—Struggle to Fight the Darkness)**

Henry and Irene's footfalls were muffled by the carpet as they entered the apartment. The place reeked of a very unfamiliar, bodily odor, but, aside from that, it was very much like Henry's Room 203. Irene dragged the other sword along and made an extremely slow, irritating moan of amazement.

"Henry… this looks like your apartment."

"No shit, Goldilocks."

What interested him the most, though, was the fact that the entire apartment was caught in perpetual black-and-white. It was as if all the color—all the _life_—of the apartment had been drained. He stepped forward and ran his finger along the kitchen counter.

"Everything's the same… I mean, sure, I got my own furniture in instead of this gaudy, retro shit that's all over the place here, but it's the same apartment. There's no doubt about it. I'm getting a really gay feeling about it, though…"

Henry pulled back and into the hallway, where photographs displaying arranged fruit adorned the walls. Receiving a disgusted look from Henry, the photos gave him the cold shoulder as he moved down the hall and into the bedroom.

Here, he bore witness to a multitude of red leafs of paper, all scattered around the room. 'They're like the ones at my room…' he thought, hunkering down to examine one.

**I dunno what to do anymore lol i swear LOL**

**I've managed to narrow it down, though. Walter whatever-his-name-is… it was the cult that made him do it, but, all the same, there's got to be another player in this. Someone—or maybe ****something****—has got to be involved to have let this get as far as it did, since the Happy Japanese Club Yes-Yes! was destroyed a couple of years back…**

**He's planning on harnessing the power of the "Twenty One Kanji". I don't think it's even possible to defeat him, now that he's become so powerful… Still…**

**Joe S. :(**

"Joe…" Henry murmured as he let the paper fall to the carpet. "This has got to be his apartment, then… We're in the past…" He got to his feet and returned to the den, where Irene was busying trying to touch the tip of her nose with her tongue.

"Look, Henry!" she squealed. "I almost got it!"

"That's great," he replied sarcastically, before hearing a disturbing squelch. He looked down and saw that he had stepped in a previously unnoticed puddle of suspicious black liquid. A wet drop landed on his nose, and he hurriedly swept it away and moved to the side in order to turn his attention to the ceiling.

His blood ran cold.

A head was protruding, upside-down from the plaster, and it was apparently bleeding. To top that off, Henry saw that there was a pointed draping surrounded the head, which gave it a very phallic semblance.

Thus, he could not be blamed for mistaking it as such.

"Holy shit-on-a-stick, there's a _dick_"—Irene burst into a fit of asinine giggles—"sticking out from the freaking ceiling!"

Henry brandished Richard's revolver in hopes of vanquishing this heinous abomination, but a sudden scream stopped him at the last second.

"Wait, wait, I'm not a phallus!"

"W-_What_?" Henry's brow shot up. "_The goddamn phallus spoke to me_!"

"No, no, I'm not a penis!" the supposed phallus cried back. "It just so happens there's a sock on my head and the sock looks like a condom and so my heads looks like a phallus!"

"_Liar_!" Henry shouted. "That's what Tim said, and _look what happened to him_!"

"_Hello, Mr. Talking Phallus_!" Irene said, waving excitedly.

"No, no, I assure you," the phallus went on, "I'm not a phallus! Willy put this on me! He's got a pretty weird sense of humor."

Henry very slowly lowered the gun, but kept it at the ready. "What… What are you? A "ghombie"?"

"…Um, what's that?" the alleged phallus asked, but shrugged metaphorically and said, "I'm the famed journalist and ace detective, Joseph Schreiber, or, as my friends, family, dermatologist, and rabid fangirls prefer, Joe."

Irene snorted. "Why'd you turn into a phallus, Joe…?" she queried, looking up at him with huge, gleaming eyes. Henry cast her a concerned glance.

"So you're Joe," he said, sticking the revolver back into his pants(:3). "It's kind of fitting—you sounded like a dick in all your journal entries!" Henry began to crack up at his comment, and Joe chuckled nervously while awaiting him to stop.

"Well, uh, anyway… I'm impressed that you two have made it this far," he said once Henry had finished. "But even still, you won't be able to escape from him. This is his world, and once he finds you, he will kill you."

"Who? Walter?" Henry smirked. "It'll be the other way around, buddy. I'll kill him, Jasper, and his stupid sock, and this time they _won't_ be coming back." He ground his teeth in rage. "They're damn otaku—they don't deserve the air they breathe."

"If they even still breathe…"

"Shut up!"

"Okay, okay…"

"Anyway," Henry said, averting his gaze to the rest of the apartment. "Why are you up there?"

Joe cleared his throat dramatically. "Ah, this was Willy's idea after I died. He trapped me up here and put a sock over my head, and it just so happens to look like a condom. Well. On to some more serious matters…"

"Yeah, do you have any food in here?" Henry asked.

"Um, I've got some parfaits in the freezer…"

Almost immediately the brunet was throwing open the freezer door and thrusting his arms in savagely for his prize. He withdrew three plastic containers of wondrous delight and took a spoon from the cupboard. Irene watched him with hungry eyes.

"Henry… Can I have one?"

"No."

And so, as Henry dug into the first parfait, Joe began to speak.

"…I don't think you quite understand what you're up against," Joe said as white cream dribbled down Henry's chin. "Walter is only a puppet, and even the puppet has transcended beyond reality. He's like a Super Saiyan now, or something like that."

"Yeah, okay," Henry belched as he threw the empty container over his shoulder. It conked Irene. "I'm still going to kill him, regardless of spiky blond hair or not."

"You don't get it," Joe replied. "He's already dead, and he possesses incredible powers within this world. You see, while you may not be able to drag him into your world, you could possibly induce him into such a state here…"

"You mean, like, make him human again?" Irene mused, and the head nodded excitedly.

"Yes, yes! But it won't be easy, which is what I'm getting at. Even if you manage to make him vulnerable, he still retains control over his sock, and, if you didn't know, with each sacrifice he's made the sock has grown more powerful."

Henry plucked a strawberry out of the parfait and bit into it, draping his mouth with red. "What's your point, then? Blow the sock to holy hell, make him human again, and then it's 'game over, biotch'." He aimlessly swirled his spoon inside the parfait. "And I already know the sock is controlling him. Mr. Sock, or whatever."

"Yes, but did you know that the sock _is_ Walter?"

Henry cocked an eyebrow. "How do you mean?"

"Long ago, Walter's conscience split. There were two Walters residing within that one mind: Mr. Sock and Walter. Don't be fooled, though—Mr. Sock has complete control, he has only been allowing Walter to be dominant."

"So the sock isn't _real_?" Irene sobbed, breaking into tears. Henry gestured the spoon at the head.

"What's the deal with the sock, then?" he asked, plopping another spoonful of heavenly goodness into his mouth.

"The sock is merely a medium through which Mr. Sock can converse with Walter. It is also the chosen sacred item for the _Happy Japanese Club Yes-Yes!_. Truthfully, any item can be used to harness the incredible powers granted by the Twenty One Kanji."

"_Wonderful_," Henry remarked before finishing off the last of the parfait. "So, then, how exactly do we go about making Walter human again?" he asked, reaching for the final parfait.

Joe blew a bubble. "You'll have to re-connect him with the real world, and that can only be done by using the flesh of his actual body. As to how to acquire that… I haven't a clue."

Meanwhile, Henry was busy examining the parfait. Instead of ravaging it as he did the others before, he simply threw it behind his head, where Irene was subjected to a face-full of lemon-y bliss.

"Okay, then, Joe, please enlighten me as to what the hell we're supposed to go from here. Oh, by the way… you wouldn't happen to have any alcohol lying around this godforsaken place, would you?"

"Um, no, but—,"

"_Fuck_!"

"Yes, of course, well, at the end of the hall, imbedded in the wall is a sword." Henry cocked an eyebrow and peered down the corridor to in fact see said sword. It seemed to be yet another one of the series he had been finding. He began to head for it, Joe's words at his back. "That sword should be the key to finding the _true_ key. Using it, you should be able to locate Walter's real self, and perhaps his flesh."

Henry fastened his hands around the hilt of the sword and yanked it out with a forceful heave. Its inscription read: **SWORD OF LOVE AND HATE**, and its tag: **Number 1 of 1! Collect them all!**

'I have,' he thought blandly. "Irene, give me the sword. I'm going back to the apartment."

She quietly handed him the weapon, and he threw Joe a casual glance. "We'll see what happens, eh?" Henry walked into the restroom and saw what he expected—a hole. Drawing a breath, he crawled through.

**ZERO SHOT!!1!11**

"What was _that_?" Henry cried as he was ejected from the hole and subjected to the laundry room floor. Standing, he dusted himself off and headed into the dim light of the apartment den. It was still night, apparently, but Henry didn't doubt that morning would soon be coming. Regardless, he ventured into the hall and was surprised to see a ghoulish red wall of demonic force barring the back wall.

"Never noticed _that_ before…" he murmured, when suddenly a familiar hum emanated from his pants. The lid of the storage chest flew open, revealing a swirling whirlpool of light. The channeling stone vaulted from his pocket and into the chest, and it was soon followed by the two swords he held in his hands. The chest emitted a powerful shockwave that sent Henry sprawling over his sofa. Crouching behind it with wild, fearful eyes he watched the light slowly fade, and the chest cease to convulse.

Seized by trepidation, Henry slowly approached the open chest as a golden, oblong nimbus rose from within the dark depths. The shimmering light subsided to reveal a magnificent sword, and it spoke.

_I am the holy sword, Homuranagi, keeper of the seven heavenly virtues. Your will has called forth the five lesser fragments of my being to reassemble my true form. My might is yours._

Henry was dumbstruck, his jaw slack, his eyes wide, as the glowing weapon floated into his hands. Upon touching it, he felt a surge of power jolt through him. How fantastic it was!

"The sword talked…" he muttered, still a bit awed. Giving it several test swings, he grinned. "But it's so light—lighter than the rest!" Cackling, he approached the red aura that was blocking the back wall. "Something is telling me I must use this sword!" Training it on the wall, blue flames ignited over the blade. A golden beam shot forth and pierced the aura, dispersing it. With the hallway cleared, the back wall crumbled into dust.

Feeling rather triumphant, Henry advanced and saw that there lay another, hidden room behind the destroyed wall. "Frank didn't tell me about this," he said, and entered.

It was dingy and odorous, and to his immediate right were racks of medicinal bottles and similar paraphernalia. His eyes trailed over the small room, and he gasped. Hanging from the ceiling by ropes and nailed to a board was a coated corpse. The carcass' hair hung over its face in clumps, but one glazed eye still shown. Henry treaded forward, holding up the sword should the dead body spring to life.

It did no such thing, however, and Henry snarled. "It's… It's _Walter_. The bastard's been here the entire time!" He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "But, if that's true, Walter really is dead, then. He's a ghost!"

Something glinted in the light of the sword, and Henry snatched the something from Walter's coat pocket. It was a key of sorts, twisted into a shape the brunet had never laid eyes on before.

"A key… but a key to what?"

And so Henry stood in the back room, pondering _what in the world_ the key could be used for. At last, he realized that there was only one thing that could possibly be unlocked—the chains barring his door!

Excited, Henry rushed to the front door. "This is it!" he cried joyously. "Now I can buy all the alcohol I want, and _no one can stop me_!" He jammed the key into the padlock and turned it. Instantly the chains untwined and dropped to the floor. The door to Room 203 squeaked open and very slowly pulled back, revealing a dark corridor. Henry smiled and ran out, slamming the door away—only to moan in defeat.

"Oh, _fuck me_."

The walls of the apartment building were covered in a squirming, red mass, similar to Henry's previous adventure through North Ashfield Heights. Rising shakily to his feet, he sighed. "Here, too? This is ridiculous…" A form approached from the darkness, shuffling towards him and giggling excitedly.

"Henry, _Henry_…! Look, Henry, the walls are _moving_!" She snorted obnoxiously.

"Irene…" Henry said, despondent. "Fine, let's go. There's got to be a way out of here, and if this place is like this… then Walter should be here, too."

They started down the hall to the left, for the right was barred by a sturdy, steel gate. Shaking with anxiety, Henry nudged open the door to Room 201, but instead of finding Mike's disgusting domain of perverseness, there was a dank stairwell. Suddenly Irene stumbled and fell down the first flight of stairs. "Good job," Henry sneered, and Irene giggled a "thanks".

Henry used the glow of the Homuranagi to illuminate the stairwell. Coming down on the first landing, a disgruntled moan alerted him to another presence besides Irene and himself. He spun around and faced a stubby creature, holding itself up on its hands. The creature's skin was wrinkled and crusty, and it advanced. Henry quickly struck it down, cleaving it in two with the swords.

"_One-hit kill_!" he cheered, brandishing the sword. "What now, biotch? New enemy you may be, but you're still no match for me!"

"That rhymed, Henry!" Irene remarked with a laugh, and Henry flashed her a smirk before exploring the rest of the hallway. At the end of it, suspended above the metal grating that served as the floor, was a body. Henry angled his head at it, seeing that it was bound by what seemed to be a straight-jacket. Greasy blond hair obscured the man's face, but his voice was clear and concise.

_I told you we should have gotten rid of it, didn't I? Hurry up, get your stuff!_

The body vanished into thin air, and Henry shrugged and returned with Irene to leave through the nearest door. They came out into the main lobby of the apartment complex, and he hurried to the entrance door, but it was in vain. The double-doors were locked shut.

"Surprise, surprise," Henry grumbled. "Looks like we'll have to find another way out…"

"There isn't one, I'm afraid," came a sinister voice from above.

Henry and Irene whisked around to see Walter standing above them on the second landing of the main stairs. He held his katana firmly in one hand and a bong in the other. The sock was strained over his head.

"_Walter_!" Henry yelled, whipping out Richard's revolver and firing off four blinding shots. In a fluid flash the four bullets were scattered across the room. Walter sheathed his katana.

"Now, now, now, Henry, I only came to greet you. You and Irene have proved to be tenacious, so much so that—ah—look at where we are." He spread his arms outward, gesturing to the whole of the apartments. "However, I'm afraid the final two sacrifices have had enough recess time."

"Final two…?" Henry whispered, gritting his teeth. "What are you talking about?"

"You'll see soon enough," Walter replied, raising his hand. He snapped his fingers and the surrounding door blew open, revealing several troops of creatures similar to the ones Henry faced at the hospital.

Walter grinned maliciously and beckoned to them. "Just one more thing. The Mother has no place with you, Henry. She belongs with me." Snapping his fingers again, Irene gasped. Henry turned to her, only to find her eyes vacant. She steadily began to ascend the stairs to join Walter.

"What did you do to her, you sick bastard?" demanded Henry, but Walter only laughed mockingly.

"I thought she was a burden to you, Henry," he said. "You should be thanking me, but don't be too worried. We will meet again very soon. I'll be waiting for you—waiting where it all began." Laughing again, he turned and departed, and Irene followed.

"Wait, goddamn you!" Henry raced forward to give chase, but the monsters intercepted him and surrounded him. They raised their weapons and prepared to attack. "Alright, then," Henry said, holding up the Homuranagi. "_I'll kill you all_!" He leapt towards the nearest enemy and decapitated it swiftly. Blue flames engulfed the blade and he spun around, delivering a wide horizontal swing. An arc of azure fire struck a number of the monsters, incinerating them.

One of them attacked, but Henry ducked and impaled it, raising it above the rest. A gush of golden light shot into and entrapped it. Henry swung down and completely obliterated the monster. He faced the rest, and, enraged, threw himself at them and began ravaging them, slashing left-and-right, dismembering the heinous creatures.

When there was only one left remaining, he pinned it down with the sword and stomped on its head, crushing it brutally. "That's what you get… biotch." Sighing, Henry turned and saw that the stairs had been blocked by gates. He grimaced and headed into the nearest corridor. Hanging in the immediate corner was another body.

_Hurry up! We need to leave before the super gets here! There's just something that doesn't seem right about him…_

"Who is this guy?" Henry queried, turning his head to see several "ghombies" floating towards him. "…You biotches will pay!" he screamed, hewing the first one in half. "First my room," he cried, decapitating the next, "then my alcohol," while impaling the third, "and then my _bimbo_!" He set the lingering spirits ablaze in a cobalt inferno and found another body at the end of the corridor. The rotting corpses behind him writhed in agony.

_Don't go blaming all this on me! You're the one at fault, here!_

Henry disregarded it and continued down the hall. He came upon Frank's room, but the door was made out-of-his reach by three looping chains. Our brunet hero blinked and noticed a nearby door ajar. He checked inside, killed a Wall Man, and found yet another hanging body.

_What _is_ that? Fuckin' smoke coming out of his ears?_

He returned to the super's room and was now only impeded by two chains. 'I see,' he thought. 'The hanging guys correspond to the chains. I guess I've got to get to the last two in order to get into Frank's room.'

The next hallway was darker than the rest, but a fifth body was present at its end.

_Little cry baby! He won't shut up!_

Henry moved back and found that the door to his left was unlocked. The room itself, however, was completely barren—even the walls were stripped of their paper. He stepped into the bedroom and found a ragged hole in the wall. He went through and discovered the final body. Stepping over a broken chair, Henry approached it.

_Fuck._

"…Um, okay." Henry sighed, but determinedly retraced his steps back to the superintendent's room. All of the chains had faded, leaving only the door. Henry opened it and entered the room, looking around. Not much was present, just some discarded cartons of Chinese food and ramen noodle containers. A stench lingered in the air, however, a horrible stench that made his skin crawl. Henry pinched his nose and followed the smell, finding himself before Frank's bed. He carefully removed the pillows and unearthed a small red box, which seemed to be the source of the odor.

"What is this, now…?" Licking his lips, Henry read what had been written in Sharpie on the top: **UMBILICAL CORD**. "Umbilical cord?" He pulled off the lid and coughed fervently from the powerful smell that burst forth. A withered piece of skin lay in a crusted tissue, and Henry studied it quizzically.

"_What the hell_? Could this be… Walter's _flesh_?" From afar, a bell tolled once, twice, thrice, and silenced. Henry looked in a rather badass fashion in that direction while tucking the box into his pants. "Whatever. Walter said to meet him where it all began, and he can only mean one place…" Shouldering the Homuranagi, he headed out, determined to settle the score once and for all.

---

"That camera… Did you see how it absorbed the spirits of those ghosts back there?"

Eileen held the archaic camera out at arm's length and squinted at it. "Yeah," she said, "it's pretty useful." She glanced at Townshend, brushing away some strands of stray chestnut hair. "Who would've thought the apartment would lead to that mansion, though?"

The man shook his head. "I don't think it did. I think what's happening here is so powerful that it's causing this entire place to become even more unstable." He tightened his grip on the axe as Eileen heaved the rocket launcher. "It might be even more dangerous down there… but we have no choice. Let's go." The couple descended into the massive hole that had taken residence in the lobby of North Ashfield Heights.

Meanwhile, Henry shot up the short flight of stairs that had become accessible after the tolling of the bell. "This is it, kiddies!" he shouted while encountering a mob of double-headed beasts. "It's the final penetration! _The last stretch_!" The group rushed him and Henry ran to meet them.

"_Special skill: Zantetsuken!_" Henry slashed forward as his sword glowed a bright blue and cut through all the enemies at once. He hurried on, leaving the monsters to literally fall to pieces behind him.

The way to the second floor of the lobby was relatively clear, but a trio of monkey-men stood in his path. Henry skidded to a halt as they lunged for his crotch. Henry jumped back and sent out a wave of blue fire to halt the attack. As the creatures struggled on the floor in the flames, Henry quietly snuffed them out. Not wanting to waste time, he fired a beam into the hall and blew it open. The blast destroyed several monsters that were lurking in the hall, and so Henry was left uninterrupted on his final return trip to Room 203.

The apartment was the same as always. In fact, there was no evidence whatsoever that anyone had even entered. Henry took a moment to gather his bearings and draw a breath. He sat on the bar stool he had sat on twelve hours ago and grimaced. "I need a drink. Why did I have to finish off my Merlot this morning…?"

Chuckling to himself, Henry stood up and walked into the back room. He was dismayed to find that Walter's corpse had been spirited away, leaving only a small hole where it had once hung. Henry knelt down beside the hole and felt oddly lightheaded. Something called to him from within, something that churned a yearning in the back of his mind to _return_. It felt queerly warm and safe down there, but common sense told him otherwise.

"They must be down there." Henry hopped down into the hole, and was suddenly enveloped by light. Slowly, very slowly, he opened his eyes to a room tinted red. The Homuranagi hummed at his feet, and he grasped it. The room was circular, and lining the walls were ten slabs of stone, each one containing the crimson imprint of a person. Henry looked down to the greater hole that resided in the center of the room. He gritted his teeth and rushed in.

The next chamber was in the shape of a dome, with a high ceiling and a vast area. In the center of it all was a pool of blood, in which sat a rotating spiked sphere with numerous spiked rings encircling it and looping around it. Beyond the peculiar mechanism at the back of the atrium was an enormous, ghastly torso harnessed to the grand wall. It roared and flailed its arms, and Henry wondered what it could possibly be. To either side of the monstrosity were four stone slabs, exactly similar to those from the previous room.

At the opposite end was a long walkway that ended at the ball of death. At the end of that walkway stood Irene, blank and drooling. Henry looked to her as he stepped onto the circular cobblestone floor that circled the pool. A voice hailed him from the other side of the atrium.

"At last!" Walter exclaimed. Henry pointed the Homuranagi in his direction, but a far-off voice captured the attention of both of them.

"Mom, open up! Please, Mom! Open up!"

Walter chortled and motioned to the entire chamber. "Just a little long now, Wally! Soon the Twenty-One Kanji will be completed and we can see Mother!"

"Mother?" Henry asked, and Walter nodded.

"Yes. I wish to free my mother from the restraints of this disgusting world. The power of the Twenty-One Kanji will allow me to do so."

"What are you saying? That this whole stupid ritual was for your mother?"

"Of course," Walter answered. "My goal was to be with my mother, for I was denied that chance as a child. The other Walter does not remember, but _I_ do quite well. The holy powers of the Twenty-One Kanji… with them I will ascend and free her!"

"You're fucking crazy," Henry said, then snickered. "Although, to think _big bad Walter_ is a _momma's boy_!" He laughed shortly. "Whatever. It's time to end this. Where's Jasper?"

Walter shrugged. "Jasper is gone, I'm afraid. His soul was devoured." The blond took a long drag from his bong. "Do you understand now, Henry? You're it. The twenty-first sacrifice. The final piece of the puzzle."

Henry chuckled halfheartedly. "I guess it makes sense, but you've got it backwards, nonetheless—_I'm_ the one who's going to be killing _you_."

"Can you, though?" Walter questioned. "Even with the strength of the holy sword, Homuranagi, you are still only human." He drew his katana and threw the sheath into the pool to be crushed by the death device. "The legendary Yamato, fabled to cut through even darkness itself against the holy Homuranagi, the god-slaying blade that was lost to the torrent of history? How poetic."

With dazzling speed Walter dashed towards Henry, angling the katana for a slash. Henry strafed to the side, just avoiding the attack as it cut through the stone and hewed the nearest slab into two. Henry brought his own sword down, but it was guarded against easily. The two locked blades, Walter laughing quietly.

"Aren't you forgetting something, Henry?"

"_What_?" He looked beyond Walter and saw Irene, still vacant, begin her trek down the walkway towards the death device. "You bastard!" Henry cried, breaking away as Walter executed an unexpected slash. The Yamato drew blood and Henry was knocked back into the damaged slab. His blood was splattered on the cobblestone between them, and he coughed out a complementary amount before standing.

He pulled out Richard's revolver and burned through the final rounds. Walter smirked and simply stood there, allowing each hit. He began towards Henry, the bullets dropping out harmlessly. His bloody wounds healed immediately. "I'm disappointed, Henry, but not surprised." He glanced back at Irene, who was halfway through her fateful journey. "You can do better, can't you? Are you willing to let her die?"

Henry ground his teeth and charged, but Walter merely flicked the revolver out of his hand with the blade and slashed the brunet's palm open. He screamed and stumbled to his knees, dropping the Homuranagi. Walter sighed and proceeded to drag. Afterwards, he took Henry by the throat and raised him off his feet. "I am going to kill you now, Henry. Your pathetic adventure is unfortunately going to end here, but first, I am going to force you to look upon your damsel in her last moments."

Walter moved to allow Henry the sight of Irene entering the pool. She seemed to walk faster towards the death ball, but just as Henry was about to give up hope, he reached into his pocket and withdrew the umbilical cord.

The effects were instantaneous. Walter recoiled, protecting his nose with the crook of his elbow. The smell quickly filled the chamber, reaching Irene. Her nose wrinkled, and she screamed, the light returning to her eyes. "Stinky!" she screamed. "_Stinky_!"

"Irene…" Henry cried in relief. As Walter was stunned, he turned towards the giant restrained creature, and, in a burst of insight, ran up to it, removed the umbilical cord from the box, and thrust it into the monster's flesh. It roared in what could only be assumed to be pain, and Walter gagged while falling to one knee.

Henry took hold of the Homuranagi with both hands and let its shining aura engulf him. "_Special skill: Renzokuken!_" He launched forward and performed a series of quick, rapid slashes on Walter. "_Final attack!_" he yelled, and Walter poured out streams of gore and choked out a mouthful of blood as the brunet rushed past him.

"Irene!"

"Henry!" Rather than embrace upon meeting each other, Henry introduced the girl to the back of his hand. She was knocked back silly.

"You damn bimbo!" he said. "What's your problem, getting enchanted like that? Do you know what a pain it's been?"

While Henry berated Irene, Walter struggled up, furious. "_Henry Townsend_!" he bellowed, "This is not over!" Henry turned back to his nemesis and smiled.

"Irene, let's finish this!" he said, and the girl nodded. They planted their hands on the hilt of the Homuranagi and let its golden light spread out around them. Walter backed away, repelled by the light of triumph and virtue. "_Ultimate Combination Attack!_" they hollered in unison, swinging the sparkling sword in his direction. "_Vanquishing Blade!_"

**!! 重大な打撃 !!  
**

A gigantic wave of positive, altruistic force erupted from the blade in the form of golden light and azure fire. The fantastic blast completely swallowed Walter and obliterated the monstrosity and most of the chamber. The light faded, and soon the atrium was returned its dark, foreboding atmosphere. Henry dropped the sword and fell forward, but Irene managed to catch him with her good arm and keep him standing.

"We got him, Henry!" she squealed wildly, and he groaned, taking a seat on the ground.

"And that's…" he breathed, "_game over, biotch_." His words hung in the air, their finality crushing. Irene did an exciting little jig, and Henry closed his eyes, hoping to rest for a moment, when a feminine laugh caught their attention.

"The game isn't _quite_ over, Henry."

Henry's head snapped up at the sound of the new voice, and he looked up in shock to see a familiar face floating down to meet them. "Gods be damned, it's _you_!" Cynthia smirked devilishly, her hair floating around her. She stopped and hovered above the death device, placing her hands on her hips.

"You know, Henry, you've proved pretty useful. I told you I had discovered the ability to _break the fourth wall_, and therefore I saw what I had to do. Everything has happened the way it was meant to, and now all the pieces of the puzzle have fallen into place."

Behind her, the rubble shifted and out came Walter, holding Mr. Sock in his fist. "W-What's happening?" he asked, and Cynthia laughed, gently lolling her hand at him. Mr. Sock flew from his hand and leisurely fit around hers.

"_What_?" demanded Henry, but Cynthia only laughed again.

"You two have successfully weakened each other to the point where you're no longer threats against me, don't you see? And now that I have the sock, I can channel the almighty power that is rightfully mine!" The atrium began to tremble with absurd force, a ring of many colors rising into the air behind Cynthia. Henry, Irene, and Walter strained their eyes to see that the ring was composed of nineteen keychains, each one a small figurine resembling a Chibi-fied person.

"It wasn't until I died that I saw my true destiny! That bucket—to think such a feeble thing could sustain the power of the Twenty-One Kanji! I am the true messiah of _Black Cloud of Death_! This wonderful power… There are only two things more things needed to complete it!"

"No!" shouted Walter weakly, unable to even stand. "Give Mr. Sock back!" But it was to no avail, for in the chaos of the atrium, Irene began to rise into the air unwittingly. Henry reached for her, but Cynthia chortled.

"Kanji Twenty: the Mother Incarnate! _Irene Galven_!" Irene looked about herself in dumbfounded amazement as she was suddenly hurled into the death machine. She let out a bloodcurdling scream as she was torn to shreds.

"_Irene_!" Henry yelled, the remains of her body floating up and merging together into a small, white orb that transformed into a cute little nurse figurine with a silver chain protruding from her head. The keychain joined the others above Cynthia's head, and she now turned her sights on Henry, who got to his feet and hoisted the Homuranagi.

The blade was once again caught in a swirling cobalt inferno. "_Cynthia!_" he roared, running at her to strike her down. The deceased woman simply raised the sock to intercept the blade and an explosion of lights occurred at the sight, the Homuranagi stopped inches away from her hand. "How…? How are you…?"

Cynthia giggled. "Henry, Henry, Henry… Did you really think your silly little toy could match the fabulous power of the Twenty-One Kanji?" She laughed and forced him away with such power that he was thrust into the air and against the high wall of the atrium. The Homuranagi loop-de-looped in the air and plunged itself into his abdomen, impaling him and pinning him to the wall. Henry vomited out a spew of crimson. It ran down his chin and chest, and he snarled at her defiantly.

"You… _bitch_!" he shrieked with his remaining strength.

"I love you, too," she mocked as he died and fell still. Henry's body melded into its keychain counterpart and joined the rest of its brethren. The ring gleamed a brilliant white, and Cynthia beamed. "The Receiver of Wisdom—_Henry Townsend_!" The light surrounded her, and when it dispersed, Cynthia had been rejuvenated. Her body was alive and perfectly immaculate, and her hair waved around her extravagantly. Her clothing had been replaced by a long, shocking black dress which revealed her legs and spread out around them.

"Such amazing power… I have ascended! I have realized my destiny as the _Otaku Queen_!" Cynthia floated upwards, possessing both Mr. Sock and her ring of collected souls. With a mere swish of the hand the atrium was ripped apart, creating a vast, gaping hole that led even deeper into the unknown.

"I will create a new world… piece by piece…" Laughing, Cynthia disappeared into the darkness, and Walter stared on fearfully.

"Henry and Irene… Mr. Sock… I…" he trailed off, sobbing. "This is all my fault…" He sat there, alone in the void, when suddenly he rose. "…But I made a promise to Bob, a long time ago… to protect Mr. Sock… and I have to save them." He took up both the Homuranagi and Yamato, and approached the maw of the great hole. Fading lights rose from below like fireflies.

Walter gulped and leapt into the blackness.

**To be continued…**

"**All elements of unrelated **_**Silent Hill**_** media are owned by their respective copyright owners."**


	13. Going Home

**Silent Hill 4: The Not-So Parody****—(Going Home)**

"What do you think that was?" Eileen asked Henry Townshend, referring to the tremendous quake that struck the area just minutes before. It had subsided now, and the grand, dark tunnel was quiet and lifeless.

Townshend shook his head. "I don't know, but I think it came from up above. There may be some aftershocks." Eileen nodded and the couple continued through the tunnel, the air heavy and damp. Around them, lights percolated from the ground and earth and floated in obscure indistinguishable patterns. A peculiar shifting noise caused Townshend to stop, however, and raise his pickaxe.

Crimson blurs burrowed out of the dirt around them. Townshend and Eileen stood back-to-back, facing down this new threat. She raised her camera defensively and cocked an eyebrow. "What are _these_?"

Five ghastly women garbed in ruby kimonos had encircled them. Their long, raven hair touched to the ground, covering most, if not all, of their individual faces. One sprung up and lunged at Townshend, attempting to strangle him. He swung the pickaxe and skewered her. He forcefully dumped the body down, but it quickly vaulted back up in a spider-like manner and hissed at him, lunging again. Townshend drew his pistol and headshot the ghoul. Although it crumpled, it slowly rose back up.

"That should've taken it out…" he murmured in confusion, and behind him Eileen was experiencing similar difficulties. She captured two of the creatures in the capture circle of her camera and snapped after several of the spectral runes had lit up. They were forced back, but had not been instantly exorcised as all of the monsters from before. The ghouls snapped up and headed for her, and without any time she heaved the rocket launcher and fired it at point-blank range, successfully destroying one. The second, however, recovered quickly, having only lost its arm in the explosion.

"They're unlike any enemy we've faced before," Townshend remarked.

"Yes," Eileen agreed. "They're stronger, more resilient. Do you think it has something to do with that quake from before?"

"Maybe," the brunet said, "but do you also hear that? It's alternate battle music! Watch out, they're going to attack again!" All five ghouls rushed them this time. Townshend aggressively slammed the pickaxe into the head of one of them before jerking it out and delivering a deathblow to the back of the head. Hastily he turned away and drew both his pistol and revolver, unloading a slew of bullets into the next ghoul.

Eileen fired another rocket, but the enemies easily evaded this time. Grumbling, she switched to her camera and loaded the strongest film type she had found yet—Type-74—and snapped several photos, capturing the soul of one ghoul and severely wounding the others.

The handicapped creature bit into Townshend's arm unexpectedly, making him drop his handgun. He withdrew his paper-cutting knife and savagely slit the ghoul's throat in one fluid slash, splattering blood in all directions. He spun around and sent the knife sailing right between the eyebrows of the last ghoul, and it sunk, dead.

Yet, even after all five had been defeated, double that amount sprouted from the ground to take their place. Townshend and Eileen regrouped back-to-back once again, disconcerted by this new challenge. "There's _more_?" she asked, out-of-breath, and they prepared for the worst when a sudden flash of light illuminated the cavern and decimated the ghouls.

They turned toward the source and saw a figure walking up to them, bearing dual swords. Townshend eased. "Walter," he said, and the blond nodded despondently.

"Hey, alternates. I'm, um, glad you're still alive."

"Alternates? What is he talking about, Henry?"

"We're not the final two Sacraments of this place, Eileen," he responded, keeping his gaze on Walter. "It was the other two, Henry and Irene. Don't tell me. The ritual's succeeded?"

"…Yeah," Walter answered quietly. "A woman named Cynthia has collected all of their souls and unlocked the power of the Twenty-One Kanji. She's planning on creating her own version of Happy Place, I know it." He walked past them and peered down the remaining expanse of the tunnel. "I have to stop her. It's all my fault they were killed…"

"We'll help you," Townshend said, and Walter turned to them, shaking his head.

"She's too powerful. You'll both be killed. I… I can't let you go to your deaths."

Townshend approached him and placed his hands on his shoulders. "Look, I know you feel guilty about whatever happened before, but if Cynthia is as powerful as you make her out to be, you'll be just as easily killed, even with your weaponry. Together, at least we have a chance to defeat her."

Eileen pulled him back. "Henry, what are you saying? We need to find a way out of here!"

"The only way out is to make one, Eileen, besides, we're just as involved in this as they are. I have a feeling we were brought here for some reason, that some unseen force keeps pulling us from where we need to be, because we have to be here. We won't be able to get back home unless we settle our business here."

He faced Walter now. "So, you see, we have to help you. And… I _want_ to." He gave Walter a warm smile, filled with such genuine kindness that Walter could not respond. Could something like that still foster in this place? This place of despair, where Happy Place would soon be _Sad_ Place?

He nodded reluctantly. "Okay, okey-doke. I can't stop you, I guess…" A cry from afar stole their attention away, and another only heightened the sense of urgency. The trio hurried onward to the sound of the screams and found Wally cornered by several of the ghouls.

"Wally!" Walter yelled, raising the Homuranagi. Divine light emanated from it and vanquished the ghouls, reducing them to mere ashes. Once they were gone, Walter and Eileen ran over to Wally while Townshend idled nearby, watching for more enemies.

"Big Walter!" Wally exclaimed, running up and embracing his older self tightly. "Is that sock guy gone?"

"Um, yeah," Walter answered. "But Wally, what are you doing here? This place is dangerous!"

"I know, but I just ended up here after that earthquake. I was looking for Mom… but she's gone…"

Eileen placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and smiled. "She's not gone, kiddo," she said, and Wally returned her smile, albeit hesitantly. Townshend came up behind them, stowing away his guns.

"He can come with us," he said. "We can't leave him here."

"Yes," Walter agreed, standing straight. He turned to the impending darkness of the tunnel. "Well, let's go." He shivered. "I can… _feel_ her. She's nearby." He started off and the others followed.

Soon, light pierced the darkness. The blackness slunk away and made room for a majestic golden palace of oriental design, kept at bay by a field of white flowers. "It's beautiful," Eileen remarked as they walked onto the bridge leading to the palace. It was lined with lanterns, and smalls wisps of light darted through the air.

"This isn't someplace different, is it?" Townshend asked as they crossed.

Walter shook his head. "No, Cynthia made this place, all right." They approached the entrance—a large door with an enormous Chibi face painted on it. Much to their surprise, the face yawned and rolled its eyes sleepily.

"_What have we here?_" it asked in an amazingly high-pitched voice. "_Guests? Oh, how splendid! Our queen _was _expecting some!_" It tittered merrily and surveyed the party, centering on Eileen last. "_And what _pretty _guests, too! Oh! how I _love_ my women _battered"

"What the fuck?" she said as the door laughed and laughed. She raised the rocket launcher to blast the damned thing down, but Walter waved it down quickly.

"Um, yes," he said, as politely as he could. "Do you think your queen will see us? We've, uh, come a long way to visit her."

"_See _you_? See _you" the door cackled. "_I think not! You'll have to see her yourself!__But don't worry! She gave me very specific instructions to treat all guests with the utmost respect! Enjoy your stay!_" It gave a final snicker before parting, releasing a stream of light. The sides of the door slammed back and Walter motioned for the rest to enter.

The palace was exquisitely decorated, with floors of tatami mats and hanging shaded lamps. The walls and sliding doors were imprinted with alternating images of roses and birds, seeming very out-of-place, yet, at the same time, _not_.

Three passages were apparent in the foyer—one to their immediate left, one to their immediate right, and one far ahead at the other end of the room. Walter crossed his arms over his chest thoughtfully. "Should we split up?"

"That would be the conventional plot device," Townshend agreed, brandishing the pickaxe.

Eileen ruffled Wally's hair playfully. "Would you like to come with me? I'll protect you, don't worry." Wally nodded stoically, agreeing to hold the camera as the woman heaved the rocket launcher. They departed through the right door, leaving Townshend to take the left and Walter the front.

"Mr. Sock," he said gravely, "I _will_ save you. I promise."

**Player 1 has lost the lead!!**

**Player 2 has stolen the lead!!**

Townshend was greeted by an all-too familiar sight on the other side of the door: the subway. He had been led into an empty corridor, with the hum of escalators nearby. Faded advertisements and posters covered virtually all the space on the walls, giving the place an absurd, otherworld-y feel—well, more than there already was.

He turned the corner and found that escalators lined either side of the great hall, some going up, some going down. All led into darkness. Townshend let out a disturbed sigh and started down the hall, and after what seemed like a lifetime, he stopped.

Before him was an intangible, impassable wall. Hanging over it was yet another smiling Chibi face, and Townshend backed away from it, dumbfounded. An inhuman giggle brought his attention around, however, and he turned to see a gigantic replica of Eileen's head floating down to meet him.

"Oh, no, it's here!" he exclaimed, and, as if on cue, the wounded Irene Head floated down behind him, successfully trapping him between the two. Townshend shrugged, shouldering the pickaxe once again. "Well, then, I guess there's only one thing to do…"

**Player 2 has lost the lead!!**

**Player 3 has stolen the lead!!**

Eileen and Wally wandered through the trees to find themselves in a clearing, the night sky overhead. Wally was holding the Camera Obscura, mindlessly taking photographs of leaves and whatnot. A fine mist clung to the ground, and a howl pierced the air.

"It's the Forest World… Could it be that the palace contains all of the worlds we've been to?" As she spoke to herself, Wally dug a booger out and slimed it across the camera's lens. They continued on through the forest, eventually coming across a great, translucent wall with a smiling Chibi face over it. "What now?" asked Eileen irritably. "I'll just it blow it down, then!" She proceeded to, but as the smoke cleared, she saw that the wall remained. "Oh, phooey."

She turned back to Wally and said, "It looks like we won't be able to go this way. Let's get—" She was stopped abruptly, as the ground before them erupted into dirt and soil as a humongous wheelchair rose from underground. Eileen strafed back and raised the rocket launcher, guiding Wally behind her as she did so.

"And here I thought we weren't going to have anymore fun!" she cried, and fired.

**Player 3 has lost the lead!!**

**Player 1 has—**

"**Oh, just SHUT THE FUCK UP! We've got a story to read!"**

Walter looked about his new surroundings and found that he was standing at the very top of the Happy Tower among the rubble of the wrecked elevator. He treaded over to the edge and peered downward, but could not pierce the heavy mist. "I can't see anything," he moaned, starting down the outer stairwell. His walk was mostly uneventful, until a high whine assaulted his ears.

He looked up in surprise to see a great mass of demonic moths flying down towards him, all the moths grouping together to take the shape of an even greater moth. Walter raised the swords defensively, but was taken further aback when a face appeared in the center of the mass.

"HELLO!" it bellowed in a disturbing falsetto. "YOU'RE TRESPASSING, DUDE, YOU KNOW THAT?"

"Um, sorry," Walter said, "but I have to go. Do you know where Cynthia the Otaku Queen is?"

The face of moths laughed jovially. "SO YOU'RE ONE OF THE DUDES CHALLENGING OUR QUEEN! HA! YOU POOR LITTLE DUDE—YOU DON'T KNOW WHO YOU'RE MESSING WITH!"

Walter shook his head, raising the swords again. "I know very well, thanks. Now, could you let me go?" He attempted a friendly smile but it fell into a frown.

"SORRY DUDE, BUT OUR QUEEN IS HAVING HER TEA BREAK RIGHT NOW! WE CAN'T HAVE ANYONE _DISTURBING HER_!" The moths dispersed and swarmed Walter, who cried out in fear and alarm. He flailed about wildly, skewering some moths here-and-there, but the amount seemed to remain infinite.

'Wait, what am I doing?' he thought suddenly, and held up the Homuranagi like a torch; it emitted a wave of golden fire that spread among the moths and burnt them all. A rancid scream came from the dying moths.

"AWW, _MAN_, LITTLE DUDE!" the moths screamed, and then they were all nothing more than ashes. Walter let out a relieved sigh and, noting how anticlimactic the confrontation had been, hurried down the stairwell.

**Um…**

Townshend plunged the pickaxe into the face of Eileen Head for a final time, covered in blood and sweat. He heard the erratic Japanese of Irene Head and dropped the weapon, drawing his guns as he did so. He spun around and shot the face full of bullet holes, unloading and loading as fast as lightning. Irene Head slammed into the subway floor, doused in blood.

Townshend wiped his sweaty brow of brunet bangs and turned to the wall as it faded into thin air, allowing him to continue on into the darkness. He adjusted his equipment properly and headed into the unknown.

**Uh…**

The wheelchair toppled over, its wheels slowing to a stop as Eileen nudged at it with her toe. "I guess that's it," she sighed, looking to Wally as he pointed a finger at the translucent wall.

"Look!" he exclaimed, and she saw that the wall was gone, having disappeared. Hoisting the rocket launcher, she took Wally by the shoulder and led him deeper into the forest.

**UM…**

Walter entered a desolate, empty parking lot, looking up at the great door at the far end, identical to the one which they had entered the palace through. To his right, an elevator _dinged_ and opened, revealing Henry Townshend, bloody but very much alive and uninjured. They exchanged glances as Wally came climbing out from a ladder across from Townshend, followed by Eileen, who laughed triumphantly upon getting to her feet.

"Ha! Even with my arm in a sling, I can still climb a ladder! _Girl power_!" She flexed her good bicep and revealed a rather large muscle, smirking. "This has been a pro-feminist message," she said stoically and suddenly, and much to her surprise.

"Hey, why did I say that?" she asked the others, who shrugged. Regardless, the face which had greeted them upon entering the palace now appeared on the next door, tittering. Eileen scowled at it. "I thought your guests were supposed to be treated with the utmost respect?" she asked, and the face rolled its two-dimensional eyes.

"_A mere misinterpretation, my battered little lamb! In any case, I'm afraid our queen won't be wanting any visitors today! She has a very busy day ahead of her! So_…"—its tone grew low and heavy—"I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave!"

"I don't think so!" Eileen retorted, training her weapon on it, as did the others. "You'll let us through!" she cried, and all four of them—Wally included, holding the Camera Obscura nervously—fired and brought the door down in a giant explosion of smoke and fire. "Let's go," she told the group, and they were off through the doorway.

On the other side, surreally, was a lake of the most pristine quality, with a cloudless sky hanging above them. They stood on a small island of many, connected by ornate bridges and archways. Taking up quite a bit of space in the middle of the lake was a golden building, built in an oriental style. Walter led the way to the structure, and not once were they impeded—their way was clear. They made it to the building, where a door creaked open and allowed them passage into the blinding light beyond…

**Intermission**

They came out onto the roof of the golden palace, a ragtag bunch of heroes joined together by fate, and faced their enemy under a starry indigo sky and many cascading cherry blossoms. Their footfalls creaked on the waxy wooden floor as they approached the sitting area at the end of the roof, where a woman knelt behind a small table, sipping her tea with nice tanned hands, one wearing a sock with two black beads sewn in as crude, makeshift eyes.

Her long black hair hung like silk from her head, covering the entire left side of her face and melting into her black kimono, with its pink flowers etched in romantic design up from the hem. A crimson sash held it all together.

Cynthia smiled seductively at them and set her cup down, the tea swaying slightly. "It was only a matter of time until you all came," she said, standing, her kimono turning ever-so slightly and allowing them a glimpse of her bare, attractive legs. She extended out her palm and a long smoking stick appeared in her fingers. "Would any of you care for a smoke"—she dragged—"or tea?"

"Give Mr. Sock back!" Walter yelled, aiming the Homuranagi at her determinedly. At this notion Cynthia laughed.

"Oh, _Walter_," she said, giggling, shaking her head sadly, "put that thing down! Didn't you see what happened to Henry?" She dragged. "Don't make me turn you into a keychain, too. The only reason I didn't do so before was because you gave up your soul willingly, like a good little boy." She glanced at the sock, bringing her eyes back to them. "As for the sock, sorry, but it's the perfect vessel for the powers I now command."

"You turned them into _keychains_?" Eileen asked, flabbergasted. "Why would you do that?"

Cynthia shrugged in response, the ring coming into substance behind her. "I guess I just wanted their souls to look cute." She gestured at their surroundings with her smoking stick. "Look at this, I _created_ it. The power of the Twenty-One Kanji is the power of the _gods_! I can create a world, a paradise, in any way I choose to."

"This isn't Happy Place!" Walter shot at her. "You're insane!"

She laughed again, raising her brow at him. "Look at _you_, Walter, split personalities galore! You failed as the messiah—it is time for me to make up for the losses of generations, to fulfill my destiny as the Holy Queen of Happiness, the Otaku Queen, and create a new world!"

The palace shook suddenly with tremendous force, but the party stood their ground, the cherry blossoms swirling around them. "Soon, the real world will be one with this world, and I will rule it as queen!" She burst into a fit of chortling, but the click of readying firearms cut her short.

"We'll stop you," Townshend said, aiming his guns at her while Eileen did the same with the rocket launcher and Wally clumsily loaded the most powerful film available into the Camera Obscura. The Homuranagi was aglow with light, and the Yamato appeared as sharp as ever in the night.

Cynthia licked her lips, grinning devilishly. "_Stop_ me? How amusing... Okay." She spread her arms out, a tendril of silver smoke rising into the air from her smoking stick. "I'll humor you—stop me!"

They opened fire, Henry with his guns, Eileen with her rocket launcher, Wally with the camera, and Walter with the Homuranagi, blasting the air with a white blast of intense fire. Their respective attacks joined together and collided with the idle Cynthia, but whereas the door had fallen easily, as the smoke cleared they saw her still standing, that same sly smile playing on her face.

"Not bad," she said, dragging and brushing off her kimono with the sock. "Are you sure you all don't want some tea?" she asked at last with that sexy, Spanish accent of hers. When no response was given, she shrugged and waved the hand with the sock. "I guess not."

The area between them blew apart into chunks of wood and dust, separating her and the party with open space. She levitated into the night sky, her kimono billowing outward into a crazy dress, her hair swinging out behind-and-around her. The sock was pointed at them, and Walter uttered a quick yell before the group spread out to all sides as the spot on which they had been standing previously exploded into cinders.

Townshend grabbed his pickaxe and fired several shots, but the bullets whizzed around their target at the last moment, as if they went magically off-course, which they technically did. Cynthia cast him a glance and the floor beneath him shot up, taking him with it. He crouched down, bewildered, as the pillar of floor rose into the sky and stopped, leaving him high above the others.

"Henry!" Eileen screamed, shooting off a rocket. Cynthia smiled and twirled her index finger in a circle, the rocket swerving around her and right at Townshend, who dropped down and caught the edge of the pillar as the rocket soared over him. He clambered back up and spotted Wally equipping the camera with its most powerful lens, as well. He prepared to take a shot, but the camera was knocked out of his hands by an invisible force.

As Wally was sent back, Eileen caught the camera and swung it around in her one good hand, snapping the photo as she did. Cynthia, however, moved faster than the speed of light; the exorcismal blast was deflected right back at Eileen, who took the full brunt of it and was forced back to the floor. The Camera Obscura exploded from the impact and lay in fragments beside her.

Walter gasped, turning back to their adversary just as she waved the sock in his direction. He hopped away as the flooring where he'd stood disintegrated, leaving a hole. "Jeepers!" he said, staring with wide eyes.

"Walter!" Townshend shouted, "Keep your eyes open!"

He looked back and saw Cynthia preparing to vaporize him again; before she could, he fired off a ray of blue fire at her from the sword. Cynthia waved it away, laughing. "You'll have to try a different trick!" The fire whipped around her and formed a giant ball, crackling with great ferocity. She swung it down towards him, and, gritting his teeth, Walter slashed it right back at her with the Yamato.

This act startled Cynthia for just a moment, and while she was swallowed by the cobalt inferno, Townshend had enough time to load up his last clip into his handgun. "Her hand, Henry!" Walter cried. "Shoot Mr. Sock!" he screamed desperately, and Townshend did just that, and the bullets vanished into the fire.

The two waited anxiously, but as the fire dissipated, Cynthia still floated haughtily in the air, holding the bullets in the sock's hand. Walter and Townshend gasped simultaneously, their shock presented in a split-screen moment. Cynthia swished her hand. Townshend was flung off of the pillar and was slammed against the floor, coughing out blood as he was. Walter was beset by sharp black tendrils which plunged into his body, spearing him. He screamed out in agony and was flung back to the others.

Cynthia floated back down, shaking her head disappointedly. Her smoking stick reappeared and she dragged for a long moment. "My offer still stands," she said, blowing the smoke out, "the tea, I mean."

The party got to their feet slowly, Eileen helping Wally up. Walter and Townshend gathered their weapons, feebly standing side-by-side, facing Cynthia. The Otaku Queen merely sighed.

"Not willing to face what's plainly obvious, eh?" she said, the remains of the palace beginning to shake once more. "I've _broken the fourth wall_, I've seen the future! I control this world now, and no one can hope to stand against me!"

A dark aura formed around her, her hair thrashing about wildly. "_Reality itself_ bends to my will!" As she said this, the palace flipped upside-down, throwiusgoa8uhasdrtjapweiur aas;dguapowieutaosientrjhekrthiufansfjahUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU_UUUUUUUUUUU_Cynthialaughedasoidugakjsdfjakdjfalskjdg**asdguiaowiuetjakjdfWaltertriedtostandbutcouldnthisfeetweregluedtothegournsaoguyaweydtiauyekrtjhasdfjeileenandwalldysaodguaskdhtaowiujdTOWNSHEND WASSTANDINGBUTHISPICKAXEWASAFATLEMONdjasdglajsdltjalskdjriuseroiuadlkjgaslkdraedjaslkjaosiudgoiasjdtliueoirualkdjfaiudoi**

**ajeiAnd the whole world was wrong, Cynthia was laugaiushdgoiausdighakjlsdkhf"thisismypower" but no one heard anythingcause****everytihing****was****different****colors****:D(ddk0aksdlkgjaj:)asksdgiuyasdr487s96g8a7s9dfiusdif7uaduhayraiuedyiuyaieballoonsballoonsballoonsruyaidjfkasdasidugaksjdflkjalsdkjf**asljkdgaksiudfiajsdfliausiouersadklgjakshdfiuahosiueyruiwa98739472978348a888_(&8SADF_AND THEN everything was back to normal, the world righting itself.

"What… just happened?" Eileen asked, finding it difficult to stand straight. Some stars were scattered about the roof, but they went back up to the sky in their own time. Townshend sighed in relief at seeing the pickaxe was no longer a fat lemon, and Wally was retching some ways away.

Walter cleared his head and reaffirmed his grip on the swords. She was powerful, it was obvious, but surrender wasn't an option. He gritted his teeth and ran at her, slashing madly, but Cynthia calmly held up the sock and created an invisible barrier which protected her. She pushed her hand outward and the barrier forced Walter back once again.

"Everything we throw at her," Townshend breathed, "she just throws back." As the words left his mouth, Cynthia sent a wave at them and flung them even further back, and this time they were completely subjugated, unable to stand.

She was dragging again, and the dress reverted back to a kimono. "It was years ago, I'll be honest, that I knew I was meant for something… _greater_. In fact, I guess it all goes back to that day…

_It was a Friday, but this is irrelevant. What is relevant is that this Friday Cynthia and her two friends, Patty and Mei, skipped the latter half of the school day and headed out to the slums of Ashfield, where they decided to try out the weed Frankie had given Patty during Chemistry._

_The weed was good—strong, but good—and Cynthia probably could have smoked _at least_ another couple when they came across the enigmatic boy, the photographer, the one who had told them—no, _her_—that when you smoked, you had to smoke with a purpose. She'd fallen in love with him then, and had stayed in love with him, fiercely, up until the day she died. It was him she saw in her mind while she lost her virginity in the back of a van behind the club that one night, him with his backpack slung over his shoulder and him walking away, walking out of her life as she screamed for him to go faster, stop dilly-dallying and just _fuck_. She never could be satisfied, unfortunately, and the irony was that she knew just being with that boy would be enough. That would be enough to last her forever._

_She never saw him again, though, never got to tell him how in those few moments he'd stolen her heart and stamped his unknown name on it, but she never forgot his words, especially the ones he'd left her with, that he'd "catch them on the far side". It never occurred to her that he was referring to all three of the girls, it was always her he was talking to, always her._

_Anyway, that day was significant for other reasons, as well. The hobo with the sock had approached them for their weed, and Mei had told him to "piss off" and that he was a "freak". Cynthia later reflected that he wasn't much of a freak, he just needed some weed. They all did, sometimes._

_She left Patty and Mei at the nearby Happy Burger before heading to the bus stop. On the way home, sitting there, she felt it necessary to get her thoughts out and onto something tangible. Like a notebook. So she took out her small, pink notebook, flipped it to a random page and began writing, jotting down her thoughts furiously, unaware of the old man eyeing her from two rows down._

_When she got home and shared the obligatory rancid exchange with her mother, she locked herself into her room, locked away the cigarette into her drawer, and then discovered that her panties were wet, which, I will be blunt, she does not mention to the party now, but she neglects to tell the party quite a bit, leaving it to me to fill in the blank spots. Once she takes care of this occurrence in the restroom she gets entangled in another disagreement with her mother, only now it involves her father and brothers, and she storms out of the house, down the street, and suddenly finds herself right back at the construction site across the street where she met her heart's destined other._

_While she tries to calm down and clear her head, someone hails her from away with a simple "hey". She looks back and sees a young man, attractive in his faded jeans and distressed leather jacket, his long, black hair, and his piercing emerald eyes. He raises a cigarette to his lips and his eyes tell her, hey, come on over, cool off and grab and soda. Not that he has sodas, but you catch my drift._

_"Something wrong?" he asks her with this queer calmness and control. This is charisma, the ability to sway and persuade people to do whatever you want them to, the ability to _change the world_, but she's never met a truly charismatic individual before, and so it's understandable. This fellow, this charismatic fellow, he is wearing a strange medallion with an even stranger design grafted onto it. She doesn't even see the medallion, see that it could be a possible red flag. Could that have changed things? No, probably not. At least, not much, as you will see once you finish this story and maybe take some time to look over it all in retrospect._

"_I just need to chill a little," and he chuckles at her usage of "chill", but this did not dawn on her._

_"I can understand that," he says, dragging. "Sometimes the day is hot and you just want to chill." He glances at the sky and sighs. "Would you like one?" he asks, nodding towards his cigarette. When she nods fervently back, he grins, lights her up, and then watches her cough the first bit out. "Chill, chill," he says, laughing. "Just take it in."_

_"Sorry, sorry."_

_"No problem. You're trying to smoke with a purpose, right? That's what a friend of mine used to say, before he quit. God bless him."_

_Cynthia looks up in surprise. "Really?"_

_"Yeah. So, what's your name?"_

_"It's Cynthia. What about you?"_

_The young man seems to consider this, because he has many names in many places, and goes to many places under many names. What he does under those many names in those many places is not something the girl should hear, but, really, what is so wrong about what he does? All he does is plant the seeds, all he does is plant the seeds._

_"Call me Francisco," he says, dragging again, and after some time says, "You don't need to thank me for the weed, but I think you should thank me for this…" He reaches into that jacket of his and produces a pamphlet, a pamphlet she would later read and discover is complete, utter _bullshit_ about some new world order and some "Black Cloud of Death". She left Francisco there that night, never saw him again, and never thought about him again, but he'd planted the seed, oh yes. Now he had other roads to walk, other places to go, you know._

_As for Cynthia, what does it matter now that we're here?_

"It never occurred to me until very recently that my destiny had been decided that night," Cynthia said to the group, wrapping up her reminiscing. She shrugged, laughing. "Anyway, you want to know what you're fighting for? This world?" She held out her hand and the ring of twenty-one keychain figurines appeared, floating beside her head. "Or is it them? It's not even twenty, though—I made one to represent you, Walter, because you're probably the most important one here."

"W-What?" he asked, leaning on the Homuranagi, bleeding from a multitude of wounds. Cynthia laughed.

"You know very well. How _obedient_ you were, Walter, following orders and doing everything that needed to be done. But now…" She advanced towards them, leaving the floating ring of figurines behind her. "I think you and your friends have reached the end of the road."

Walter saw the figurines, and a thought crossed his mind, although he wondered if it was really a thought or perhaps Mr. Sock, but whatever it was, he figured it was their last chance. He met eyes with Townshend, Eileen, and Wally, and they seemed to understand, at least partially, what he was going to do and what had to be done.

Cynthia raised held Mr. Sock out to them, smirking, and all their eyes were now on her. "I enjoyed it while it—" She was interrupted suddenly when Walter bolted to her left, heading for the ring of figurines. She spun around to stop him, but Townshend ran in between them and was the one to be blasted across the roof instead. Walter watched him go out of the corner of his eye, aiming the tip of the Homuranagi at the figurines, the blade radiating with his will.

Cynthia turned fully towards him, screaming, "_No_!" but was forced to turn back around when she heard the sound of a rocket firing, tearing the air asunder. She sent the rocket right back around to Eileen and Wally, who just had time to avoid the ensuing explosion.

Walter closed his eyes, channeling the last of his desire and hope into the sword, and then the Otaku Queen was upon him, a black tendril impaling him on the spot, forcing him to cough out crimson and let go of the hilt just as the sword's aura left him and shot at the ring of figurines, setting them afire in golden glory.

Cynthia stared on in horror, mouth agape, as the figurines exploded in a flash of light. "What did you do?" she demanded at Walter, who shrugged weakly, suspended on the tendril.

"I just wanted them back, that's all," he murmured, smiling. "They were like your Super Mushrooms, right?"

She watched as the light faded, leaving seventeen confused and bewildered people on the roof along with the others, alive and well. Two, however, were standing in front of Walter, one giggling in the other's arms, her own slung around his neck, her white-and-pink kimono as fresh as the bow in her hair and as clean as the rest of her. "Henry!" she squealed, "We're alive!" On the horizon a red, fiery sun had begun to rise into the dark sky.

"Yeah," Henry said quietly, putting Irene down to her sandaled feet and taking up the Homuranagi. He flashed Walter a thumbs-up, and the blond nodded, joined by the others. "Sorry, Cynthia," he said, shouldering the blazing sword. "You can insult me, eat my weed, make empty promises, scrutinize my favorite color—_fuchsia is badass, by the way_—suspect my sexuality, defend Otaku—who aren't _that_ bad, I guess—accuse me of playing MMORPGs, get killed, become a ghombie, turn my bimbo and me into keychains, and ask me about Canada, but—_what_?"

"Can I say something?" she asked meekly, lowering her hand.

"_No_," Henry said sternly.

"But that wasn't an empty promise. I would've bought your chocolate milk."

"Hey, _stoner_, what in Christ's name is going on here?"

"Shut the fuck up, Richie!"

"My name isn't fuckin' _Richie_, for the last time it's—"

"Hey, I'm not stuck in the ceiling! Yes, yes! Fuck you, Willie!"

"Dude, I'm right over here!"

"Oh, sorry."

"Walt! Look, I'm not stuttering anymore!"

"_Hey_, good job, Jasp! I—"

"_I said shut the fuck up_!" Henry screamed, silencing them all. He drew a breath and brandished the Homuranagi at Cynthia. "What I'm trying to say is that you can do all that, but… but…"—he shrugged—"I don't really know, but the point is that you've been owned… _biotch_."

Cynthia giggled, then began laughing. "Oh, you can defeat me, but there will always be more, _always_! This isn't the end!"

Henry shook his head. "That's not my problem. I'll leave the demon-fighting to angst-ridden teenage girls with dyed hair and alternate personalities. I just want a drink." He raised the sword, which was now brilliantly alight, and said, "Catch you on the far side."

Cynthia let out a surprised gasp of a sob, falling to her knees. 'No wonder he looked a little familiar,' she thought, a tear sliding down her cheek as Henry brought the blade down and hollered, "_Ultimate Vanquishing Blade_!"

The giant, golden wave consumed Cynthia, Mr. Sock, and all the rest of the newly revived sacrifices before they even knew what was happening. The Homuranagi was fumbled from his hands and fell into the darkness far below the palace. "Oops," he muttered, the rest of the roof obliterated in the blast.

"Mr. Sock!" Walter screamed in anguish, but Henry held him back.

"Hey, hey, calm down, man! He's gone! The sock is gone!"

As he held the crying serial killer and glanced out at the gray dawn, Townshend and Eileen turned to leave. Henry stood up, still holding Walter by the shoulder. "Hey, wait a minute," he told them, stopping them. "We're not done yet."

"What _now_?" Eileen asked in frustration, but Henry had extended his hand out to Townshend, who looked at Henry in surprise.

"You've got some telemarketers looking for you," he said, grinning, "watch out for them."

"Yeah, sure, thanks," Townshend responded, taking the hand and shaking it. "I'll be careful."

"Henry," Eileen said gravely, "we've got to go." Townshend nodded and backed away from Henry, giving him a companionable nod before turning with Eileen and leaving back into the interior of the palace, which was probably not where they would end up.

Irene whimpered, going up to Henry, who put an arm around her subconsciously. "Do you think we'll see them again, Henry?" she asked slowly, and he shrugged.

"Who knows? They're off to bust some balls, no doubt". He realized his personal contact with Irene and jerked his arm away frightfully. Shaking his head, he faced Walter and Wally, "What's going to happen now, Walter?" he inquired, the palace suddenly shaking once again, but with no sign of stopping.

Walter shrugged, smiling. "Sorry, dude, but you've got to go home. This isn't your place."

"What about you two?" he asked, and Walter chuckled.

"We're the same person, dude, don't worry. Look, as long as you focus on where you want to go—_home_, man, _home_—then you'll end up there. Just believe." He and Wally looked back at the rosy dawn, Wally disappearing into Walter as the palace convulsed and the sun rose into the sky. "Go on. It's like you said, dude, catch you on the far side."

"…Alright," Henry said while he and Irene headed back into the palace, stopping only because Walter called out to them.

"Henry! I'm sorry about chaining up your door and trapping you in your room! Must've sucked!" he told him, slowly moving towards the edge of the roof. Henry waved a hand, turning back to him.

"No problem, Walter, no problem." He and Irene left Walter on the soon-to-collapse-roof, and although he'd failed in what he was trying to accomplish, bringing about Happy Place, Walter couldn't really say he was disappointed. He was dead, after all.

**Golly, mister.**

Henry woke up back on his bed, early morning sunlight shining in through the windows. He stood up from his bed, running a hand over his tired face, yawning. Massaging the back of his neck, he groggily peeked into the restroom and laundry room—both holes were gone without a trace. Still rather dazed, the implications of this did not occur to Henry as he saw the ceiling fan had been righted, the chains gone, and the message nothing more than a passing memory. Starving, he walked out of the apartment and into the hallway, and decided to grab a bite to eat at the nearby coffee shop. While walking down the stairs into the lobby, however, he gasped.

"Holy shit." His eyes widening, Henry hurried down the stairs and cried out happily, dropping to his knees. "I'm free!" he shouted. "I'm free! Oh man, I'm _free_!"

Frank, who was sweeping to his right, blinked at him. "Um, howdy, Henry."

"Howdy, Frank!" Henry exclaimed, embracing the older man. "It's glad to see you're still alive! Spread the joy, my man, spread the joy!" Laughing, Henry ran out of the building, only to run back in. "Hey, Frank, where's Irene?"

"Uh, still at the hospital, I imagine," he answered. "She was in pretty bad shape."

"Hey, thanks! Don't worry, I'll get that rent in soon, you better believe it!"

"Sure," Frank said, watching him go. Shrugging, Frank returned to his sweeping.

Meanwhile, Irene was awakening in her hospital bed, light spilling in through the open window. She was inexplicable dressed in her casual attire, and as she was examining herself, the door burst open.

"Irene!" Henry greeted, and she giggled, beaming at him.

"Henry, what are you doing here?" she asked, and he swung a wine bottle in her direction.

"Getting drunk!" he told her cheerfully.

"But Henry…!" Irene whined. "Whatever happened to my tampon? You never found it!"

"Don't worry, here," he said, producing a package of fresh tampons from his back pocket. "Now you don't have to be re-using the same one!"

"Yay!" said Irene, taking the package. "Thanks, Henry."

"No problem, Irene," he said passively, popping open the wine bottle and taking a great swig from it. As he licked his lips and prepared to take another one, Irene frowned at him.

"_Henry_…! You can't drink in hospitals!" but he simply waved a hand at her and looked out at the new day.

"Just shut up, Irene."

**End**

"Just call me Francisco, detective. They tend to like that name. Now, about this girl I want you to find…"

…** ?  
**

"_**Silent Hill**_** and all related media are owned by their respective copyright owners."**


End file.
